The Darkness Within: a Bellamione FanFic
by estherlestrange
Summary: The Great Madame Lestrange is strutting around, sprouting the Dark Lord's secrets and strange things occur that makes the Dark Witch even more unsure of herself than ever. With her chaotic mood swings, who on Earth is to tell her what's real or not real? Granger seems to be in more of a daydream than ever and is Narcissa really who she acts to be? Or someone else entirely?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

All characters belong to the gorgeous JK. Rowling, I have no intention of plagiarism and I am truly so sorry if the following content may offend you. The below contains 'lemon' as my friends call it, but more straight forward the following has hardcore sex scenes that may not be appropriate for all ages. The whole entire story is not focused on sex though, and it does have a plot and such to it. I really do hope that you enjoy reading this and I will try and update asap!

**The Darkness Within: a Bellamione FanFic**

**Chapter One**

Everything is silent. The cool wind softly caresses my cheek, gathering my hair in a messy tousle. I look down at myself, making sure that I am presentable- and then I shake my head. Why should I care? Either way I am so much purer than the Mudblood, in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she's covered in filth. I keep walking, treading around the grave stones, looking in to the cold marble eyes of an angel. Her hands are reaching out to me, her expression serene. I look down at the grave she protects, and I touch her cold hands that probably haven't been held in over a century judging by the dead flowers by her feet. There's a soft cackle of leaves causing me to whip my head around. I look at her, and I can already feel the fear pulsing off of her.

"Madame Lestrange," she whispers, her voice cracking audibly loud.

"Mudblood," I greet before clearing my throat. We both keep staring at each other, the girl's gaze faltering every now and then to study her delicate hands. I shake my head again, trying to empty my head of her every detail. "Well then," I sneer, "come closer. Don't want anyone overhearing, do we?" Timidly she takes five more steps forward, stopping so that we're nearly touching, she looks up in to my eyes, and I look down in to hers, "gone mute, have we?" I question, my voice coming out quiet yet husky, I clear my throat a second time.

"No," the Mudblood says from behind those brown curls, "no, of course not."

"Good," I reply, forcing a pout to my lips. I study her face, can still see the fear reflected in those eyes, her nostrils flaring slightly. I begin to speak, I begin to tell her of the plans- some of them are hard to say aloud, but I think of Severus and the words keep flowing out. All for him, this is all for him. I keep thinking that, it is my love for him that keeps driving me forward, the only reason why I'm now turning my back from my other, dark lover. Riddle's a wasted case now, and so am I. But I'm determined not to waste my last few years. So I keep going on, ignoring the dark void that is coiling in my stomach, expanding as I spur out more and more secrets. She's staring at me so intently, this Mudblood, so intently that for a moment I stop talking, my mouth slowing to a stop and all of a sudden I can feel her against me. I can feel her lips against my own, and I am so surprised, but I'm so used to surprises that I don't pull back, in fact, I kiss her back. I let my hands roam the same places hers are. Up her shirt, down her pants, through her hair, everywhere. It's breath taking. She shoves her tongue in to my mouth, not even asking for the entry. I'm shocked at her display of dominance. Usually I'm the one forcing my way in, but for some strange, unexpected reason, I enjoy it. I can feel her tugging on my corset, this fifteen year old daring- daring to undress the great Madame Lestrange in a graveyard, in the open space. I let her. My mind is full of fuzz and lust as she manages to undo all my laces. I can feel my clothes slip off. The girl stops. I watch as she stares at me, half naked with only my stockings and high boots. I feel words escape my lips, I can't stop them.

"Show me how dirty you can get, Mudblood." My voice comes out in a purr, and she looks me up and down once more, a glaze coming over her eyes.

"What am I doing?" She whispers as she rips off my stockings. Her hands don't tremble for a single second. Soon I'm on the grave stone, and I'm cold, so cold, inside and out as I lay there, bare and willing. "I've never done this before." The girl says as she pulls off her own clothes. She kneels down in front of me, and I moan, I can't restrain it, it just comes out as my eyes skim over the girls pale, lean body.

"Neither have I," I whisper, "not with a girl, anyway. And yet, I want you, I want you so badly." The young witch looks down at me again, and slowly she spreads my legs apart, licking her lips yet breathing shakily.

"So do I, I want you, Bellatrix." It rings in my ears, the way she says my name, it turns me on. I can feel my arousal flowing out of me so much that it runs down my thighs. The Mudblood spreads them wider as she lowers herself furthermore. Her breath against my core makes me writhe beneath her, and as if this is her cue she starts to kiss my wet core, causing me to gasp. I feel her tongue against the already slippery folds and I scream out from the pleasure it brings. My hands fly down to grasp those soft brown curls, willing the girl to go faster. And she does, her tongue starts flicking against my clit and my hips are bucking to meet each stroke. Her hands are travelling up to meet my breasts, squeezing them like she's hanging off a cliff or, oh, but I can't think. All I know is the pleasure she brings, and the dark void starting to go away. I'm not cold anymore, I feel more alive than ever, I feel like the sun lives within me. She continues to kiss me down there, until I can feel my orgasm build to it's highest possible peak, and then comes release. I relax against the cool stone, and all of a sudden I can taste my own arousal as soft lips press my own so hard I know that they will bruise.

"Hermione," I sigh, acknowledging her name for the first time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Hermione**

Feverishly I turn in my sleep. I can still feel her imprinted on me, mentally and physically. I can still _feel_ the scent of her, engulfing me like humidity, this smell of musk and freshly cut pine trees. My fingers still tingle from those luscious raven curls. I'm so confused. I don't know why I had acted the way I did that night. Considering, for the 'Brightest Witch of her Age', it was a pretty stupid an unexpected thing to do. I open my eyes. But even after my eyes adjust to the soft moon light I can still see her. The dark room fades away and suddenly she's there. Waiting, simply there. Standing beside that cold marble angel. The dark witch had reflected that statue's cold and sorrowful expression. She herself, in that moment, had looked like an outcast from Heaven itself, and in that dime of time I had been so very terrified. I had continuously been glancing at her hands, checking that her wand was not drawn. But as soon as she had opened her mouth, I had to keep looking away to avoid watching those captivating ruby folds. And although I know how wrong this all is, and although I can't climb over my wall of confusion, I swear that during those few long hours I had spent with the older witch, with Bellatrix, I had flown on the wings of a dove.

* * *

I hadn't slept for the rest of that night, instead I had replayed everything about the other woman over and over again in my head. It didn't help, I just got more confused, and more obsessed.

The mirror reflects a pale girl with soft brown smudges under her eyes, that now contain an even sharper glow than before. I look at her. She stares back. We both pout our lips before walking opposite directions.

* * *

"Hermione, Hermione are you with us?" the question lingers in the air for a little while as my attention slowly draws back to Dumbledore. "Sorry, I don't think I caught that," I say in a daze. The old wizard looks at me sternly, some of the Order smirk at the fact I just got distracted, and Harry has concern written all across his face.

"We were discussing your conversation with Madame Lestrange."

"Oh, you mean Bellatrix?" I ask impulsively. A soft murmur goes around the room,

"must have been a damn good conversation if we're on a first name basis with the Great Madame Lestrange." Tonks jeers. I sweep my eyes across the table to Ronald whose expression is unreadable, but soon a remark comes.

"Yeah, must have been." I ignore them all and correct myself.

"I apologise, I mean to say Madame Lestrange. The meeting went well," I say, looking down to avoid people watch the blush approach my cheeks. When I look back up I sprout out word by word the secrets Bellatrix had told me, stopping every now and then to let them all understand what I'm saying. There are several gasps at some of the knowledge they are discovering. After my annunciation there's a long sail of silence. Harry, Ronald and I are asked to leave so that the Order can discuss this matter and many others to their fullest possible extent.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asks as soon as we're out, I smile softly, about to reply. But the words I hear come out are not my own, they're Ron's, it all rough and full of annoyance.

"Of course she is, mate, I bet she just wants us to leave her alone." But that's the last thing that I want. I don't want to be alone where she is on my mind, where I can hear those screams of joy; and so I wonder for the billionth time. What is Bellatrix doing right now?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Bellatrix**

"Yes, My Lord, of course, My Lord- when, My Lord?" Tom walks over to me.

"My love," all of a sudden his hands are on me, "what did I tell you about calling me 'My Lord'?" I try not to tremble at his touch, and keep pretending to be his. I look at him with that fanatic adoration in my eyes, at least, I hope it shows. Inside all I want to do is push him away and yell to his face how I know all of the many secrets he's keeping from me- how I know that he's using me, but I don't. I can't. Instead I can hear my voice coming out all husky and breathless. The way… the way that Mudblood had made me act. At the simple thought I can feel a heating in my stomach, and I moan. I need… a release…I swoon at his touch, and soon my own hands are roaming over him.

"Oh, but just admit it." I say before kissing those lips. "You like *kiss* it *kiss* don't you? *tongue runs over lips* It makes you feel so powerful, *kiss* you are powerful. *kiss* So, so powerful, My Lord. *kiss* the greatest of all purebloods."

"Yes." He whispers in my ear, tickling me. "I am the most powerful," his hands are now in my hair, "I am the most powerful, and you are mine." I gasp, "mine." He repeats.

"Now," I say, "make me yours." His hands disappear from my hair and soon I'm undressed. Cool, pale skin against my own porcelain complexion. A cold sweat breaks across my body as the arousal from my stomach starts to boil. "I need... I need," I never get to finish the sentence for the next moment we are both on the floor, him on top of me, inside of me. Nothing is gentle with Tom, he pounds and I groan with each thrust, my hips bucking to meet his own. His hands are roaming again, holding a breast in each hand making my nipples go hard with the freezing contact. My own hands are against his chest, my legs useless at each side of the cold wizard's hips. I can feel my thighs starting to clamp around him, tensing as the pleasure starts to become too much. I thrust my head back, he bends his forward.

"Bella," he says hotly. I open my mouth to say something but the only thing that comes out is a loud scream as I come. He starts to slow down, I run my fingers through my curls. The pounding starts again and I can feel myself go in to that state of not being. I'm not Madame Lestrange anymore, I am no one. All I can feel is him, and the chilly floor. I'm not thinking anymore, and I am not a being until the sun begins to lazily rise.

* * *

There's darkness, like always. I can't see anything. I feel like my head is on fire. It always feels like it's on fire. Always. That's what Severus says to me, 'Always'. That's what he used to say to Lily as well- he still does. I know that he loves me and I love him too, but he will always love her, Lily… just like how I will always love Tom, no matter how much he hurts me with all his secrets. He was meant to win this war, I'm not allowed to think like that, he IS going to win this war against that boy and all those other wizards and witches with such filthy blood running through their veins. Hermione pops in to my head, the Mudblood. I push her back out. Easy as that, she's just a girl, a Mudblood girl that's confused… who makes ME confused. I know that we won't win this war, I know it's pointless.

I had been so young and naïve when I had joined the Death Eaters, and at the time Tom had been so very handsome. What, with his soft brown eyes and fair skin. That dazzling smile that made all the girls swoon. Immortality. Just like his smile the word had swept me off my feet. Eternal youth. I was meant to be his Queen. His Lover.

I don't regret telling the girl all of those secrets, I know that I am my own downfall in this war. They were going to win anyway, they ARE going to win this war. Against me, against Him. Severus.

Oh, but whatever to do with Severus. I know what he's doing right now, I can see his movements through his eyes. I had done the Unbreakable Vow with him, to become his partner in crime against the Dark Lord. No one had to know, but he had told Dumbledore, or, Dumbledore had found out. I feel sorry for Severus, because of course the Vow goes both ways; I can see in to his head, and he can see in to mine. I giggle softly at the thought of Severus' emotions as I sleep with Tom. That makes me laugh but it also makes me cry. It's not going to work- me and him, it never was going to, never is- and we BOTH know that.

I feel my eyes start to close, and then I'm gone in to a black paradise. All the confusion goes away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

*Several months later*

**Hermione**

"Harry." Sirius is hanging by the kitchen doorway, his eyes twinkling with pride and a chalice is held between his fingers. Molly is handing out the presents now and I hear Ronald try to stifle a groan of annoyance when he opens his parcel to a jumper. Harry is thankful to everyone as always and I smile as Fred and George joke around in their usual manner, there are some things that will never change.

"Hermione, Hermione dear, a very Happy Christmas to you!" Molly hands a small little box and I look up to her a little befuddled, startled that I'm not receiving my usual scarf. "Tell me who it's from, hey? I think it might be from Ronald," the ginger-haired mother whispers with a chuckle before walking off. I stare at the small prism in my hands for moment but curiosity overtakes me and I open it. Inside is a quill, but instead of being made out of medal, wood, or an owl feather- this one has the feather of a phoenix. Bewildered begin to separate it from the box, causing a piece of paper to fall in to my lap; this is what it reads-

_Hermione, _

_I know how much you love to write, and you really do study an awful lot…_

_Consider this a thank you from all the times I copied off your school notes, and also, a thank you for being such a brilliant friend. I know that people call me a lunatic behind my back and I am so very grateful that you and Ron have stayed by my side after all this time- I hope it stays like this until seventh year, if there IS a seventh year for us. _

_I've noticed that you've been a bit distant lately, and I can hear you crying in the middle of the night. Did you know that you sleep talk all the time? I just want to let you know that I'm here for you, and you honestly can tell me anything… after all, you have kept up with all my headaches and constant dealings with trouble. To be honest, you're kind of like the sister I never had. Anyway, I hope the quill is to your liking. _

_I wish you a very Happy Christmas._

_Yours sincerely, Harry. _

I can feel my heart gently beating in my chest and I already know that a wide smile is on my tomato red face. I carefully place the note and quill back in to its case as the Christmas Dinner is set out. Harry scooches closer to me on the long table benches, and so does Ron.

"Thank you, Harry," I voice out my happiness.

"Anything," he replies whilst putting roast pumpkin on his already full plate. And I know what he means by that- 'anything'. I know that he's really saying, 'you can tell me anything, I won't judge. I will do anything for you.' It's a promise we had made- Harry, Ronald and I. Until the very end. We're in this together, together we will go through everything and anything. For the first time in the past few months I am so content with happiness that I can barely speak.

* * *

"I can't understand why you don't want to wear it, Ronald," I giggle.

"Because I look like a bloody idiot, that's why" he retorts. My eyes roll dramatically, allowing me to catch Ginny looking at Harry- she doesn't follow us down the stairs. Harry disappears somewhere which leaves Ron and I walking to our room, alone. Beginning to feel uncomfortable I walk off and try to find Harry. There he is, with Sirius. I wait a little while, they're having a moment and I can feel the urge of leaving tugging at my legs. Instead I knock on the door frame.

"Harry, time to go."

* * *

With a lot of thoughts brooding away inside of me after visiting Hagrid, I keep walking up with hill with Harry and Ron- when suddenly I feel like butterflies are beating wildly inside of my stomach. I look around… and I see her. Bellatrix. Standing there in the Forbidden Forest. I can feel my feet making their way towards her.

"Um, Harry, Ron, I'm just going for a… for a stroll."

"Okay." They shout back over their shoulders. I'm face to face with her now. The butterflies are beating their wings even more frantically. I feel like I'm about to vomit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Darkshadow-lord** & **LoveInTheBattlefield**: Thank you both so much love for reading and reviewing! I'm glad that you two are finding it interesting, but in a good way or bad way? _

**Chapter Five**

**Bellatrix**

"Bellatrix?" confusion clouds the girl's eyes.

"Watch it, Mudblood." I growl, "it's Madame Lestrange." Miss Granger's eyebrows knit together, causing her forehead to crease. Her eyes haven't changed, neither have her lips- she looks exactly the same as last time I saw her save for her height and clothes; even that bushy hair of hers is the same. I grin menacingly.

"I don't understand." She's coming closer towards me now, "You're in the news you know, everyone's talking about how you've broken out of Azkaban. You broke out ages ago." She's studying me now, skimming those brown eyes across my body, my face. "Polyjuice Potion?"

"Yeah,"

"Is that all you're going to let me in on?"

"Yeah"

"Well then, how do I know that this is really you?" I shrug.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," she says seriously.

"Why?"

"Do you remember this?" I'm swept in to her embrace, warm, safe. No, not safe, I will never be safe. She's just using me. I push her away.

"Yeah," I say for the third time, my voice coming out all shaky. My heart is beating so hard that it feels like it's about to burst from my chest, my stomach feels like it's on fire and my lips are turning dry, so I lick them and she watches intently. She's looking away now, a blush blooming from her cheeks, spreading down her neck, across her forehead until her pale complexion has turned red.

"So, I call you Madame Lestrange?" My eyes flicker about before answering the question,

"Yes, and I address you as Miss Granger?" The awkwardness of this conversation makes my skin itch, I don't understand what it is with this girl and making me feel so… insecure. Sure, I feel so insecure, all the time, but this is different. My pride and haughtiness seems to dissipate whenever I'm around her.

"No," she replies, looking me straight in the eye, "you call me Hermione." Blood is dripping from her lip, trickling down her chin. Fascinated I watch, unknowingly drawing myself closer to the young witch. Soon we're breathing in each other's air, and in this impulsive moment I lick her, the saltiness of her blood traveling down my throat. Instantly I jump back once I realise what I've done. I push her away, causing her to fall over, greeting the mud with a loud slushing sound.

"I prefer calling you, Mudblood actually." Tears are welling up in Hermione's eyes now, I don't know what I'm doing but I turn away and stalk off. Why had I even come in the first place? To talk to Severus, yes, but that was already sorted… I ponder, and ponder, my train of thought rushing around in my mind. What had made me watch the girl as she walked down to Hagrid's? What had made me wait for her to come out? Nothing makes sense. The darkness is beginning to cloak me again, and with darkness comes his other friends: Confusion, Pain, Lust… Depression. My train of thought becomes darker and darker by the second as I wade further in to the Forbidden Forest. I can feel spiders starting to ascend up my arm and legs now, their legs twitching, tugging at fabric. The hissing of snakes and the soft slither they make gets louder by the minute. Soon they're coiling at my feet, an unkindness of ravens are perched on tree tops, singing their terrible song and I can hear the crickets chirping away. Black, everything is black. The moon has not yet risen but the sun is gone. I can hear the centaurs pounding the ground, and rats scampering through tree trunks.

This is home. This is the safe haven that I had found when I was a little girl studying at Hogwarts. No one had bothered me here, no one had dared tread where the tress are so thick you can barely walk a metre without bumping in to another trunk, where there is no flat ground, only tree roots cover the forest floor. The air here is so fresh, and damp, you can smell the pine trees and the thick fragrance from millions of flowers, roses, plants. The odour of animals cling to the limbs of plant life. I close my eyes. Home. This is home.

The girl fades from my mind, but not from my body. The shape of her is still imprinted on me. Warm. She makes me feel so warm in a world that is so very, very cold. But as I begin to take a trip through memory lane, as the friends of darkness begin to tug at my doorstep, she's gone completely. There is darkness, and only darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I know that the beginning to this has been a bit confusing- but things are beginning to unfold. Thank you to everyone who has liked, reviewed and followed! I hope to do you well; as for this chapter, well I hope that you enjoy…

**Chapter Six**

**Hermione**

I need to find her.

Where do I go? Where do I start? When? Why had she walked away? What is it with my impulsive actions whenever she's around? Why is it that whenever I see her, I just want to crash myself against her? Why had I insisted on calling her Bellatrix rather than Madame Lestrange? Is she safe? Of course she is, she's a Death Eater, and surely she can defend herself. All these questions, and no answers…

I don't know what draws me to her, maybe it's just that pale, snow white skin. Or perhaps those raven curls that are so silky around my fingers. But there's this sadness in her eyes, through all of her haughty and arrogant actions. I had been so frightened of her that night we had our 'meeting', but something had made me go to her, no matter how scared I had been. Since that night, oh, my infatuation with her, all of this is so wrong, and unhealthy… and yet… that sadness… that beauty.

Neville kept telling me not to go, kept sadly telling me about the Curciatus Curse, and what a terrible and heartless person Bellatrix is; and everyone else was telling me 'it's too dangerous', saying, 'just let Snape go instead'. After all, it had been Severus that had told her to leak some secrets, I don't know how on earth Snape had convinced Bellatrix, but hey, it had worked- obviously.

Questions continue to stream through my brain, and I just sit there, staring at an open book. I'm meant to be studying, but I still hadn't changed my robes. Mud is now everywhere, on the chair, on the bed, desk, walls- I had left a kind of snail trail through the Gryffindor Common Room, and no one had noticed until after. The chill is starting to get to me, there isn't a fire in the dorms which is why we only come in here to sleep. It occurs to me to just whip out my wand but to be honest, I can't be bothered. I just want to think, causing more and more curiosities to bloom in my mind. Strange and beautiful scenarios are created, situations where I end up getting kidnapped by a dark beauty, enjoying the torture she brings. My imagination and image of _her_ is so vivid that I have to keep reminding myself that none of these are memories, just a figment of my overactive brain. And that's when an answer comes, a thought and a name. Malfoy. Malfoy Manor.

Bellatrix should be at Malfoy Manor.

I sit there for a little while longer, just staring at the faded brick wall.

Should I go?

Images of her flit around, I can feel a smile tugging at my lips.

I need to find her.

* * *

"Harry, can I please borrow you're invisibility cloak?" the Common Room is empty except for Harry and I, Ronald and everyone else had gone to sleep a while ago. Sleepiness is starting to creep in to his eyes, and his pyjamas are already crumpled. I feel overdressed as I sit next to him in a knee-length lace dress of powder blue.

"Where are you going?" He asks wearily, rubbing his eyes. I'd already thought of an answer.

"I'm just going with Luna and Ginny to Hogsmeade." I feel so bad lying to him, but Bellatrix… simply Bellatrix.

"Oh, okay, but aren't you a little overdressed for Three Broomsticks?"

"I'm just wearing a dress, Harry…"

"But you usually just wear jeans… oh never mind" he's yawning now.

"You should sleep," voicing my concern- "Harry, how long has been since you've slept for over six hours?" His tired blue eyes lock with my own.

"Hermione… I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just- I can't sleep, and even if I could I don't want to. Those nightmares, they, they aren't the best thing in the world" There's a sail of silence, his head is starting to nod off now, but as soon as it hits his chest his eyes spring back open. "Well… the cloak is under my bed I'll go get it, and the Map, you'll need the Map." As he starts to get up, Harry pauses. "But, if you're going with Ginny, why isn't she-"

"Ginny's already there," I interrupt. When did lying become so easy?

* * *

I'd managed to get out of Hogwarts without getting seen via the secret passage that leads to the Shrieking Shack. I nearly bumped straight in to Professor McGonagall, who had looked straight in to my eyes as if she knew I was there, and yet she continued to walk straight past with a soft curve to her mouth. I stand here now, the breeze whistling through the floorboards, chilling my bare legs, it make me shiver. I guide my way through the Shack, trying not to have a journey through memory lane, and yet the screams from that night echo though this wood. I can still hear Harry's voice shouting accusations at Sirius and Remus; and Ronald trying to defend what would later become Peter Pettigrew. The Invisibility Cloak tickles my skin, and soon I'm out of the Shack, and I apparate. I hadn't been to Malfoy Manor before, but of course there had been photographs of it in the Daily Prophet, and that was enough to go on by. There's a moment of disorientated dizziness before my feet come in hard contact with solid ground.

For a split second the Cloak slips from my shoulders, but with a hard shrug it conceals me once more. Death Eaters are prowling the maze that lead to a high iron gate and one of them turns his head. I hold my breath. He looks away. How do I get in? I hadn't figured out that part of the plan yet for I hadn't known the set out of Malfoy Manor- but from this point of view it seems close to impossible to get in, alive. But then again, with magic, anything and everything is possible. My eyes scan the area, watching the bored Death Eaters walk around the perimeter of the Manor. When they're all away from the gate, which I know will last for only a split second, I run through the maze and up to the iron gate, trying not to turn a leaf or trip over. By the time I reach the gate the Death Eaters are coming around again, and I have to pause for a few minutes, waiting until the next split second when they're all away from the cold iron. Quickly I apparate to the other side of the gate and as soon as I make contact with the ground I sprint towards the door. Alarms are blaring, letting it be known an intruder are on their grounds, and suddenly the Cloak falls- they can see me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Sex scene ahead; this is just a warning for those that don't like 'lemon' smut. 

**Chapter Seven**

**Hermione**

They're all crowding around my now, most of them already have those dreadful masks on of silver and bronze, brass; but none of them gold. Whispers wrap around me like a dark shroud and I can feel my heart in my throat. I'm looking frantically about, searching for a familiar face. I can spot Lucius' pale locks but everyone else are unknown identities. Suddenly a path is being made through the crowd around me, and as soon as she properly looks at me, after a little while of squinting, her face is evaded by shock.

"Disperse!" the woman shouts, masking her expression but her eyes now full of surprise and fear. Her pale blonde hair is swept up in a bun, without those cascading strands she doesn't look like drowned person tonight.

"But it's that Mudblood girl!" comes a howl.

"Yeah, shouldn't we call The Dark Lord?"

"What she doin' here, hey?"

"Ach, pokin' aroun' for secrets, she is!" Accusations start flowing in, the volume building up around me. Hands are starting to take hold of my arms now, I can feel tears gushing down my cheeks. I'm so stupid. What was I thinking? Is Bellatrix is even worth it? I try to bite back my sobs but they come out, loud and clear and the men around me are mocking my tears, pretending to whimper.

"Oh, _I know _what we'll do with her!" bellows one of the Death Eaters, there's another round of hushed whispers and suddenly the hands aren't just on my arms anymore. Hands are roaming up my dress, and suddenly my underwear is off, and same with my dress. My knees give way so that I'm keeling there with only my bra on, and I can already see a man reach out to unclasp it. But before that happens she's back. Madame Malfoy- Narcissa.

"I said disperse!" her voice is ringing in my ears, and everything becomes a blur. Everything turns to blackness with bolts of colours here and there. I can hear grunts and soon there's less noise. Less hands. Less suffocation, "stand up." I try to stand up but my legs are like jelly and there's a loud crack as my high heels snap. "Stand. Up." The command becomes more urgent, with that urgency I lift myself to my feet, taking my heels off in the process. I feel so bare now, I'm nearly naked and the night is so very cold. My vision is slowly coming back and Madame Malfoy is shoving my clothes towards me. "Follow," and she begins to walk away. The Malfoy Manor is a cold beauty, everything is black and swirl marble with black wood furnishings and glass. A lot of glass. I'm shivering, teeth chattering, and for a minute I actually think about putting the Invisibility Cloak around me. But they can't know that Harry has this, I frown as I think of where to put the Cloak so it can't be found. I put my dress back on as I follow Madame Malfoy, and tie the Cloak around my thigh tightly, hoping that it won't slip. Almost immediately we come to a halt, the witch in front of me opens a large door, gestures for me to come in and shuts it with a thud. Darkness. Again there is darkness. I can hear something rattling about, something heavy and then silence. A fire is now lit and I almost sigh with relief at the warmth.

"Miss Granger, do take a seat." Looking around I can tell that this is the drawing room, I sit down close by the fire on a big vintage style couch of faded black leather.

"Thank you, Madame Malfoy," I say rather clipped. "For um, before." The older witch looks down at me with pity.

"Tea, Miss Granger?" It takes me a moment to decide whether or not she is mocking me,

"Yes, please." She looks at me in a superior way, her eyes still boring in to my own as she snaps her fingers, ordering a house elf for a 'large, hot pot of earl grey'. I dare not break the contact, even as her lips begin to curl in the way Bellatrix's does most of the time.

"So, what brings you here to Malfoy Manor?"

_I wanted to see Bellatrix. _

I look down, "I accidently apparated on to your grounds, as you may know-"

"- you're still studying Apparation, yes, of course I know." I try not to notice her foot flexing. "May, I ask, _Miss Granger_, where could you have possibly been_ apparating _too," she glances down at her watch, "at midnight?"

"The Three Broomsticks," comes the instant reply. Madame Malfoy still hasn't broken eye contact with me, her smug look is beginning to look even smugger. She arches her brows.

"The Three Broomsticks? In that little dress?" Her eyes are now skimming over me, stopping at my thighs, a smirk dissipates on her face as quickly as it had got there.

"Yes, well, I was, I was…" I've run out of lies.

"That's what I thought…" she finishes with a sly smile. With a loud _boom _the house elf arrives with a large tea tray set for two, and I frown at the large bags under the elf's eyes. It feels like a very long time before the elf diappartaes away, and I have to physically shake off my emotions. Madame Malfoy is sitting right next to me now, the tea tray on her knees. She's so close that her elbow bumps my own as tea and milk is poured in to fine china. She hands me a cup. "So why are you here, really?" Uncomfortably I try to shift away, but I bump right in to the couch's arm. I try to stand up and walk to the other side of the room but Madame Malfoy's hand is like a metal grip around my wrist. I sit back down, looking away from the pale witch. From here I can smell her perfume, I can feel her breath travelling down my arm. "Now, now, you can tell me little girl." I say nothing. Her breathing is quickening. She's even closer than the last second, inching closer and closer to me. I feel like I can't breathe. This is Draco's Mother, for God's sake! I take a sip of my tea, not knowing what else to do. I ignore the fact that it burns my tongue and keep sipping, closing my eyes all the while. That wasn't a very wise choice. Her body isn't beside me anymore, and her hot air isn't travelling down my arm, it's now journeying up my thighs. I open my eyes. She's on her knees. On the floor. In front of me. Her hands on each knee. This. Is. Draco's. Mother. Her eyes are gazing up at me, twinkling in a peculiar way.

"What are you doing?" the question comes out in a whisper, a scared whisper. The Invisibility Cloak, it's still around my thigh. My worries are answered as it slips from my leg. Well, I hadn't tied it tight as I thought. It had fallen at just the right moment for now Madame Malfoys hands are traveling further up, spreading my legs apart. I hadn't put my underwear back on. I try to snap my legs shut, but she's stronger than me.

"Muffliato," she whispers, before lowering her head. The hem of my dress is brushed aside as her hands keep roaming upwards. This is too much. I can feel my own breathing getting faster at the pleasure of the hot air blowing at my opening. This is so wrong. Everything, all of this, is so very wrong. My head throws back, and she ascends forward, her tongue is now travelling slowly up downtown and I can't help my arousal. I'm wet. She's quickening her pace with a devilish tongue. I'm writhing. And just as I was beginning to feel like erupting, she added her fingers. I'm screaming.

Neither of us notice the door opening.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **I actually don't know why I started a new chapter, haha, this is basically continued from Chapter Seven _ I'm sorry not sorry for all the smut scenes but there's a reason as to the Narcissa and Hermione business that is going on. I hope you all enjoy, and maybe leave some reviews? And I'm really sorry for all the swearing towards the end, but, um, yeah, I guess it's not necessary but it's just what Bellatrix and Narcissa were saying in my head at the time I was writing it.

LoveInTheBattlefield, I'll do my best to keep it going, love!

**Chapter Eight**

**Bellatrix**

As soon as I open the door I know that I should leave. My mind is no longer drifting as I process the screams of pleasure. The sound is familiar. Curiosity controls me as I walk in to the warm room. The fire is roaring and the smells of burning wood, freshly brewed tea and sex over powers the usual scent of old leather.

**Hermione**

I feel so weak, so powerless. Lust and desire corrupts me as Narcissa continues to assault my clit with her tongue, her fingers are now out. I'm clutching everything within my reach and her hands have roamed up to unclasp my bra which falls off quickly, leaving my breasts exposed to the warmth, to Narcissa's hands. As soon as my breasts come in contact with her hands I can feel my nipples harden with excitement. I give off an open-mouthed moan, which seems like a signal to Narcissa for she starts to quicken her pace.

"Oh," I moan, "ooooh! Mmmmm." Her hair tickles my inner thighs and her hot, wet mouth feels so good against my labia. I run my fingers through her hair, undoing her bun and it feels strange to have these silky strands wrapped around my hands instead of those glorious raven curls. I begin to rock my rips as an orgasm begins to build in my stomach. Hands leave the mounds of flesh on my chest and go back to attending my dripping pussy. I can feel her digit's pounding inside of me in a come hither motion. Soon we have a rhythm, a continuous wave of sexual delight running up my body, making my spine arch in unison. My chest rises and falls as groans and moans willingly depart my lips. "I'm coming," I whisper, my body starts tensing up, pleasure solidifying within me. She stops, my body squirms momentarily from the loss of contact but before I begin to question her disappearance my right leg is lifted and put over what feels like a smooth shoulder. I feel a leg wrap around my waist and suddenly a wet pussy is rubbing against my own and I'm coming. I ride out my orgasm, nearly breaking from this much ecstasy. The witch's upper body lowers and I can feel her creamy breasts rubbing against mine. So powerless, I feel so weak. We're both sweating as our lips connect together. She's kissing me so harshly that I feel like my lips are going to crack from so much pressure. Her tongue evades my mouth, running over my bottom lip, lipping across my upper lip.

"Stop- JUST STOP!" comes a loud, feminine shout the exact moment I detach my lips from the older witch and scream,

"Oh, Bella, fuck!" and with that, I can feel my body release its tension, I close my eyes- and they don't open for a long time.

**Bellatrix**

I can't handle it anymore. I step away from behind the door so that Narcissa can see me. The anger that was fuelling through me a second ago lessens a little bit as I hear the girl scream my name. Narcissa stops, panting as she straightens herself- my sister looks me in the eyes where I can see fear growing. Cissa's hair is a messy nest, and you can see where fingers have been harshly run through, she's glimmering with sweat. She looks like a Goddess, and for a moment before, seeing her fuck Hermione like that, had made me wet to the core. But it had also driven me off the rails with jealousy. My mind had soared away, and all I had wanted to do was throw off thousands and thousands of hexes and curses. I had wanted to hurt her in every single possible way. We kind of just stand there, staring at each other from across the room, and I start to storm over.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I hear myself shriek. I can feel my dagger in hand and soon it's pressed hard against Narcissa's throat, already beginning to draw blood. My sister smiles.

"Oh, come on Bella- tell me, how long have you been watching the show?" the fear is gone from her eyes, and she's now peeling back in to her own skin. Her eyes are again filled with desire and she moves away from the blade, causing more blood to spill. She doesn't seem to mind. "Look at her, Bella, look at her." She turns my body around so that we're both facing the naked Mudblood splayed across the couch. I'm hyperventilating, the darkness within rapidly growing, being fed by lust, jealousy and anger. I need to hurt something, I want to, oh, I so desperately want to. So I begin to hurt her with my words.

"Have I ever told you that you're a slut?!" I spin on my leather heel, turning to face the nude beauty. She smirks.

"Last time I checked that's what you like about me…"

"Look at you, Narcissa Malfoy! You're just fuck whoever you please, don't you? You fuck me, you fuck Lucius… to Hell, you even screwed over that gardener boy yesterday didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?" the younger woman pouts, and puts her hands against my chest,

"Don't touch me!" I hiss, stepping away. But she comes forward and begins to undress me. "You go around, pretending to be this woman that needs saving- well you don't need to be saved! You deserve this, you deserve Draco turning his back from us. He is not worthy enough for the Dark-" her lips capture mine, softly pecking at first.

"Shhhh," she whispers in my ear, "what has you so hot and bothered? You're hurting my feelings," she whimpers as she snuzzles my neck, undoing my corset.

"You fucked my girl," I growl. Cissa stops and steps back to look at me with confusion.

"Your girl?"

"Hermione." I begin to lace up my corset again and I shimmy back in to my dress.

"Oh, don't tell me that you've slept with her too?"

"Didn't you just here her scream my name, Narcissa?"

"No! No, she didn't!" I draw my wand, wanting to release all this tension further than my spiteful words. "Look who's whoring about now, hey? So, tell me," Narcissa cynically laughs- "You've bedded this Mudblood," she motions to Hermione, "you've slept around with the Dark Lord and Snape; and…" she grasps my hand and runs it down her body, closing her eyes, "and you've been lapping up my pussy since you were sixteen, Bella." Narcissa steps closer, "tell me. Who are you calling slut?" her breath tickles my face and for a moment I can't take my eyes away from those ruby lips.

"I guess we're all whores here" I whisper back, "including her." Now fully dressed I wrap my cloak around the bare witch, but I look down as my foot bumps in to something. There's nothing there. I reach down to the floor, and my fingers make contact with something smooth and silky. An Invisibility Cloak. I wrap it around myself as I Dispparate to the Forbidden Forest with Hermione in my arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **I'm on a bit off a writing spree, so I'll be updating quite a bit today- reviews are greatly appreciated, love ;)

**Chapter Nine**

**Bellatrix**

It's raining. I nearly slip on the moss beneath my feet as I land in the dark forest. The darkness is still coiling within me, urging to break free. But with Hermione in my arms I feel, I feel just a little bit more stable. I sit down on an ancient tree root that, from centuries of growing is sprouting from the ground. The young girl is shivering and like an oversized baby I cradle her in my arms, my wand drawn.

_Lumos Maxima. _

Trying not to wake the girl I lower my wand a little, but not so much as to not see her face. She's as light as a feather, this girl, and I wonder if she's been eating lately. I shake my head, knowing that I shouldn't be concerned with this girl's diet. I scare myself when I'm around her. I'm scared at the comfort she brings, scared of the warmth that surrounds me like a blazing fire. I look down at her peaceful expression, her lips are slightly parted and I remember what it's like to kiss those lips. I remember. Usually I don't like remembering; it always ends with me in a cold fury throwing hexes and curses at old brick walls which rebound and sear my skin- and I like it when that pain erupts, it makes me scream. Oh, how it makes me scream as I remember the sting of my Father's whip, of his drunken hits that never missed their mark. But with Hermione I remember other things, sweeter things- like the night we had met. She reminds me of the Spring after a long and cold Winter, of warmth, and, dare I say, happiness. This person, this blood that I have been taught to hate- is the thing that I desire most. I bite my lip. The rain is so cold, the girl is still shivering- I produce a warming hex on her before standing up and placing the girl in between two tree roots carved almost like a basket, she curls in to the wood in a fetus position- she is no longer shivering. I take off the Invisibility Cloak, and wrap it around her so that no one can discover her, but, in fear that a creature may tread on her I also cast a protective charm around the child. I touch her hand once more before standing up. I must leave. I must leave and I must forget.

After apparating straight in to my chamber at Malfoy Manor I grab a bottle of fire-whiskey and take a seat. I summon all the memories I have of the young girl, they flash beneath my eyes. Not wanting to lose concentration of those particular thoughts and memories I point my wand at my head and continue to relive those moments- while I'm at it I also think of the secrets Tom kept from me. The tip of my wand begins to gently heat up, and it's only then that I whisper the spell.

"Obliviate."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **I know that this is getting dark and depressing, I'm sorry. It's just**, **fuck, I'm just sorry, okay? This is just kind of… my release, and this is how they're acting inside my head, and they just need to escape from there, you know? We're all old enough to process these writings properly though, right? None of you are going to… shit, I give up explaining myself.

**Chapter Ten**

**Bellatrix**

My head feels like it's on fire and my eyes burn when I try to open them so they remain shut. It feels like a hammer is pounding against the inside of my skull, labouring its way to freedom. My tongue runs over my chappy lips in an attempt to moisten them. The bed sheets are twisted around me, in a way chaining me to the bed and my body feels like one massive bruise. I want to go back to sleep. I want the tendrils of darkness to slither in to my nightmares. I sigh and succeed in keeping my eyes open for more than a second. I blink before catching sight of an empty bottle; fire-whiskey. I cackle.

**Hermione**

I had awoken in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, wrapped in Bellatrix Lestrange's black coat which was beneath the Invisibility Cloak, and underneath all of it, I had been nude as babe. My body had ached from being in such a tight position for so long, and my _heart_ had ached from the memories of last night. I had felt and still feel, ashamed.

I sit here now, in the Great Hall, fully dressed, sandwiched between Ron and Harry with a cup of pumpkin juice in my hand, which is shaking.

"So, did you have fun with Ginny and Luna last night?" Harry questions, eyes glued to the front cover of the Daily Prophet which has photographs of Umbridge all across it.

"Um, yes," I say lowly. Harry puts the stack of paper down and looks sideways at me with a sirius expression. Guilt. Disgust with myself. Lack of self-confidence. I can feel everything draining away.

"Really? Because I asked Ginny… AND Luna, and they both had no idea what-so-ever as to what I was talking about, Hermione." I look away, Harry hesitates, "where were you, really? Why weren't you here in the morning?" I feel a warm hand rest on my shoulder. My hand is shaking even harder now.

"Harry, Harry stop." I whisper, "I can't-" I take a sip of the cold juice.

"You can't what, 'Mione?"

"Leave her alone," comes Ronald's harsh voice. I'm trying so hard to keep the tears from spilling, and I want to push Harry's hand away but at the same time I feel like I'll crumble if I do. My whole body is quivering.

"Ron, can't you see she's hurting?" a body stands up and leaves, heavy footsteps thundering away. The Great Hall has dulled down to a whisper. The tears have slipped, they feel like silk tracing down my cheeks.

"You have enough on your plate." I whisper to my best friend, standing up. The tears are now running like rivers, burning my face. It hurts. It hurts so much, all this pain. This heart ache, and in a rush I run as fast as I can, imagining the flight of an eagle. And then there I am, on the bathroom floor with Moaning Myrtle sobbing beside me, just like when I was eleven, and twelve, thirteen- oh for God's Sake, at least for the past each month… and for some strange reason, Dobby is here as well.

"D-Dobb-by?" I stutter in between my sobs- "not-t to be r-rude or anyt-th-thing, but what are you doing here?" the free elf looks down and whispers almost to the floor.

"Dobby was sent by Professor Dumbledore to find Harry Potter's friend, Miss Granger," he looks up, "but is Miss Granger alright?" I try to stop my sobs, try to think rationally which causes the hiccups, the tears continue to stream down though. Moaning Myrtle doesn't seem to notice anyone's presence at all.

"I'm f-fine."

"Well, if Miss Granger would like to grab Dobby's arm?"

Dumbledore sits behind his desk, hands clasped together in his usual manner. He opens his eyes on our arrival, and instantly the pain, anger and shame dissipate from within me, staring in to those twinkling blue eyes of wisdom instantly sets me at ease.

"Thank you, Dobby," more than delighted with Dumbledore's praise the free elf Disapperates with a wide smile. "Ah, Miss Granger." The old Head Master takes off his half-mooned spectacles and ushers me to the seat across him, "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Carefully I place myself on the squeaky chair, and wonder how many people have been seated here, conversing with the grey-haired wizard.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes, good morning," Dumbledore smiles, "and what a beautiful morning it is. Now, Hermione, how are you?" his eyes penetrate in to my own, seriousness written across his lined face. I close my eyes, and shake my head. It feels like a thousand daggers are running around inside of me, painful, I feel like screaming. I feel like drowning, like jumping. "Miss Granger?" the rumbling voice is drowned out by white noise, by loud, taunting sounds of pleasure. "I just, I want to talk to you about Madame Lestrange? You seemed a bit distracted and upset about something during the Order meeting." I can't breathe. I can't think. This is so embarrassing. This is so fucking disgusting, I am disgusted. I am weak. I am falling, crumbling. I can feel arms around me, I can hear words being whispered in my ear, comforting words, sweet sentences stringed together that are meant to make me smile, that are meant to make me feel stronger- but it's not working. I can feel myself being lifted and place on something soft, and there is a soft kiss on my forehead, and a tear that is not my own joins the other tears rolling down my cheeks. And I cry, oh, how I wailed from the heartache pounding in my chest. Trapped in an unpleasant dark lane. Darkness. This all began with darkness, and with my pain that is where I return. I feel something press in to my robe pocket, and then sleep overtakes me once more. And I dream. I dream of midnight black curls, and snow white skin, of ruby red lips and long nails that make me writhe. I am lost.

**Bellatrix**

It's placed between my lips. A thick, fat cigar. Huge puffs of smoke coming out in rings. I watch in fascination. My head still aches from the hangover, but the burning within my head kind of feels… nice. In my dark paradise I dwell, with promises of glory fuelling me. And that is all I need.


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note: **Sorry about my note on my previous chapter _ I guess it's safe to say that I have mood swings, anyhow I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Btw: the herbs that Prof. McGonagall are giving Hermione are NOT DRUGS *laughter* because, that what my Grandma thought, so just to set things clear, not drugs

**Chapter Eleven**

** Hermione **

"Miss Granger?" I moan. "Hermione- Hermione dear, it's time to wake up now." Blearily I snap my eyes open to discover Professor McGonagall's face looming over me. "Oh dear, your eyes!" With this she stands up and begins ('delicately') clashing about; shocked I sit upright to find myself on a plump couch in the corner of a cosy room. Old photographs cover the walls and a small fire is blazing on the other wide, oil lamps are scattered on various desks that are over flowing with parchment and open books. How the Hell did I get here? As I begin to remember the past events, talking to Dumbledore, or, more of Dumbledore talking to me- running from the Great Hall, escaping to Malfoy Manor, emotions begin to overwhelm me again and I feel like crying, but it seems that my waterworks has run dry. I can tell that my eyes are swollen from the deadly itch it brings and I feel dry saliva coating my face. Shit, I drooled in my sleep. In embarrassment I get off the couch, but before I can get anywhere Professor McGonagall returns with a tea tray overloaded with a lot of bowls and pots.

"Miss Granger, please do sit back down," she commands with an expression of deep concern.

"But, I've been sleeping so much, and I need to tidy myself up- Professor I don't know what on earth I am doing in your room, but I believe that I should leave, this is so embarrassing-" My fast jibberish is interrupted as the other witch's mouth is drawn in to that familiar stern line.

"Miss Granger, this is the last time I will repeat for you to please sit down." I had never ever before taken a seat faster than that moment just then. The tea tray is set down on a foot stool and the Hogwarts teacher pulls out a chair for herself. She wiggles herself forward a little bit more so that our knees are touching and she begins to wring out a steaming small cloth from one of the many bowls on the tray. Before I can ask what's going on she is wiping my face, gently dabbing at my eyes. There's no need to think as ointments and creams are applied and a large warm mug is placed in my hands. I take a sip.

Butterbeer; Butterbeer spiked with strange herbs. The familiar feeling of warmth travels through my body, and before long I'm giggling my socks off for no apparent reason. Some type of Happiness Potion? Hmmph, I don't know but it's working. My mind is aimlessly flitting through images of butterflies, and horses prancing through paddocks, dozens of report cards with straight marks and oh, so many O.W.L's! A brush is being run through my hair, and then I can feel fingers running through, tugging and pulling, and I know that it's being braided; and I know that the Professor is smiling, I just know without even looking at her. She's speaking in a language I can't quite understand, cursing in a soft manner.

"Okay Miss Granger, you may leave."

"Thank you," I whisper, "just thank you."

Soon I'm out the door to see that the stars are already shining so very brightly. I kind of just sit there for a little while, like a little kid exploring the night sky for the first time. And although I won't admit it aloud, I acknowledge the fact that I really do regret not taking Divination now that Firenze is here.

Giggling I go up to the library where I am a regular midnight customer and begin reading about the sun, the many moons out there- the planets and what prospects they bring; but deep down I know, so very deep down, that these words cannot teach me everything. I guess that Luna has rubbed off against me a bit… This is where I spend the rest of the night, and when I hear the clock chime six, I put all the books away, and roll up my notes. Something slips from my pocket.

**Bellatrix**

"Again!" Tom shouts, already poised, ready to defend. I'm panting. Cold sweat runs down my body. I conjure up the darkness, I think of the darkness, of their whips gathering to form on being. I pronounce the spell in my head, strongly, almost screaming it. Again, again, and again. Finally it begins to form. The dust around the room gathers in to one dark slither of a being. A snake of dust and fear. It's tongue darting in and out of its mouth, hungry. With a flick of Tom's wand, it is dead. Slayed. There's a knock on the door. Draco. When I turn around the Dark Lord is already gone.

"In!" the door opens silently and a thin, young man walks inside.

_Legillimens _

The pale boy trips over, now on his knees, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get me out of his head. His mind is so easy to read, it's like a book. Slowly, oh so slowly I can feel him trying to build those mind bricks. I stop. The boy looks up, pain in his eyes.

"Again," he whispers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note: **I'd like to hear what all you loves think of this so far?

**Chapter Twelve**

** Hermione **

**(Something slips from my pocket.) **Quickly I pick it up, turning the envelope over in my hands. On the front the paper has been tainted with my name in green ink, and nothing else. Excitedly I open the heavy envelope and take out a few sheets of heavy parchment, all covered with the same spidery, elegant green handwriting. This is what it reads,

_Dear Miss Granger, _

_I was meaning to tell you all of this when I asked Dobby to bring you up to my office- _

_But you were in no fit state to comprehend what I was saying, and it broke my heart to see you in all your sorrow. I may have placed a sleeping hex on you to put you out of your misery before writing you this letter and putting you in Professor McGonagall's care; who insisted that I pass you to her rather than to Madame Promfrey. I trust that you are now in a happier state of mind and being. She does, after all, brew up the best Butterbeer I have ever tasted. _

_Now, I noticed that you were rather… distracted during our meeting with the Order a few months ago, and that you insisted on calling Madame Lestrange by her first name, Bellatrix. I'm going to put this quite bluntly, Hermione. _

_I know. _

_I know about you and Bellatrix. I could see it in your eyes. That passion. _

Fear treads with heavy footsteps in my stomach. Is it really that obvious?

_To be honest- I am delighted. _

I squint at that sentence for a little while, confused.

_I want _ you _to know something now Hermione. I am not going to tell you her whole story, because that is her business. But this is what I want you to know. I want you to know that Bellatrix is broken-hearted. She could have blossomed in to a loving and caring young woman. Madame Lestrange, did not have the happiest childhood. It was harsh, and brutal, and in her youth, whilst she was still naïve and confused she went over to Voldemort's side. And he has used her. Voldemort has used her and wielded her with Dark Magic. She is dangerous, and she appears ruthless. For him, for Voldemort, she IS ruthless. And it's only lately that she seems to have found her humanity, thank Severus for that. _

_Now, I won't dwell too much on that, but Hermione, I believe that you can change her, for the better. _

_It is destined, after all. _

_Burn this letter, once you have read it, nothing good will happen if it falls in to the wrong hands. _

_Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore. _


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note:** Are all you beauts still there? Enjoy? The 'speech' (as in most of the talking sentences) in this chapter are the exact words in the book or movie of the Order of the Phoenix; Chapter thirty-Five 'Beyond the Veil,' but of course nothing else has been plagiarised. This is my first fanfic by the way… so I don't actually no how accurate this all has to be, if any of you lovelies would like to help me out in the reviews? Thoughts would be good too? Thank you all for reading, loves!

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Hermione**

_It is destined, after all. _

I had stared at the last line for hours filled to the brink of confusion. Frustrated I had thrown the parchment in to the Common Room fire before getting ready for class.

*quite a few hours later*

Harry comes up to me, panic in his eyes.

"Hermione, it's Sirius."

**Bellatrix**

"Bella, it's time." I look at Lucius. His face is drawn tight. "Now," he says almost as if in a command. How dare him! My wand is already out, pointed at him and I let out a maniacal cackle as he winces from the hex.

"Time to go now," I whisper in a mock voice "Lucius."

My mind disorientates as I'm airborne, travelling unseen with black smoke, flying- soaring; and then my feet hit hard ground. I giggle from the stumble. I still feel light-headed. Potter. Need to get Harry Potter. More giggling. Oh, left, go left. Voices echo, the globes are glowing, so pretty. Very pretty. Want to touch.

"Bella! No touching," Lucius hisses. We walk at a fast pace. Soon they appear, huffing and puffing. Pathetic little things. The Weasley boy is there, along with the Weasley girl- what an excuse for pureblood wizards, they disgrace the status. I spit at the floor as Lucius begins to speak. They all snap their heads towards us.

"To me, Potter," Lucius demands, "to me." The boy's green eyes bore in to my own, trying to pick out some facial features.

"Where's Sirius?" the boy questions with a stern voice, a cool sweat is already beading his forehead. I feel jitterish.

"The Dark Lord always knows!" I screech out of nowhere.

"Always," Malfoy repeats the random remark in his slow drawl. Oh, how I hate that drawl.

"I want to know where Sirius is!"

"_I want to know where Sirius is_!" I mock the boy, how insolent he is! How impulsive he is, and they say that he's intelligent! The Dark Lord thinks that this boy is so cunning… and yet, he's so… pathetic to be the survivor. The only survivor of my dear Tom.

"You've got him. He's here. I know he is," he says hotly through gritted teeth. Insolent.

"_The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo_." I sing out in in my childish voice. Taunting.

"Just hand over the prophecy." Lucius repeats calmly, with a slight hiss.

"ACCIO PROPH-" I screech out, impatient, how dare, how can he, aargh! The rage. The mortification.

"I TOLD YOU, NO!" Lucius turns to me angrily, his green eyes burning from the slits in his mask, "IF YOU SMASH IT-" Already distracted I lean forwards to inspect the crowd of Hogwarts students. A familiar face apart from the filthy Weasley's and Harry Potter. Oh, how lucky! A new Longbottom member to torture…

"Neville? Neville Longbottom?" I cackle if anything but cynically, oh I enjoyed watching Alice writhe, screaming… "How's mummy and daddy doing?" I question sarcastically. His friends restrain him from attacking me- as if he can! Hmph. The girl, the girl with the bushy hair. She's looking at me, staring at me. Who is she? I stare back at her in a challenging way. Usually people would look down, run away, scream… but this girl, she just continues to gaze at me, as if she knows me. But I don't know her. She's dressed as a Muggle; all of them are. Thousands of expressions are written across the pale being's face. Pain, anger, disappointment… and I have to squint, I lean forward, and that's when I see it- the hue of love colours her eyes. Who is she? She's… attractive, and petite… My thoughts flow out of my mouth.

"You need more persuasion? Very well- take the smallest one, let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it." Oh, I can already imagine it. Her body beneath me, writhing, begging for mercy- perhaps dear Tom will let me keep her, like a pet. I laugh, it echoes. I relish at the sound, the power. Power. Immortality. Soon it will all be mine, and at the moment, these children are in the way. But the girl, the smallest of the bunch… I've got my eye on her. She's- intriguing. Taller than me, perhaps, but only by about three centimetres.

"You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us, I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it will he?" his green eyes sweep across, obviously scanning for a way out of our net. Silly, silly boy. "So, what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?"

"What kind of prophecy?" I roll my head on my neck, I'm tired. "You jest Harry Potter," my lips are dry. I try to moisten them.

"Nope, not jesting, how come Voldemort wants it?" My whole entire body reacts. My already drawn wand is now raised, aimed at the boy. I am ready. Poised. My mind fuming at my lover's name escaping his blood dirtied lips. He doesn't deserve to even utter his name.

"You dare speak his name?" the boy stares in to my eyes, sending a challenge but with fear in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah I've got no problem with saying Vol-"

"Shut your mouth! You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare bismerch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare-" he cuts me off mid-sentence. The rage, the darkness, it must be unleashed upon this boy! If he ends up dead I will explain to my Dark Lord, explain why he is dead. Dead. Yes, he doesn't deserve to speak Voldemort's name; but he deserves to be DEAD.

"Did you know he's a half-blood too? Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a muggle- or has he been telling you lot that he's pureblood?"

**Hermione**

I shake my head. There is no recognition in her eyes as she leans forward, inspecting. I'm like an insect, being studied, analysed. I almost cringe at the reality of this situation as it settles in my mind. She doesn't remember me. How can she not remember me? For Christ's Sake, I lost my virginity to this woman! I purse my lips. I need to stop thinking about this, I should be worrying about Sirius. Oh, dear, Sirius… but instantly my mind is drawn back to Bella. She's speaking now, taunting. I watch as her upper lip curls over her teeth, revealing their decaying yellow colour. I wince. I need to fix that… I shake my head, furrow my brows. I don't need to fix that. The great Madame Bellatrix Black Lestrange isn't at all my responsibility; no, she's my enemy. I'm meant to hate her, hate her very guts, just like how much purebloods hate Muggles. Just like how much she's meant to hate ME. Confusion, now a familiar friend, decides to seep in to my skin, daring me to ask myself questions. Now isn't the time. Now I need to fight, to defend, to HELP.

But can't help it- I moan at Harry's remark, such an idiot. Definitely hitting too many nerves there. Oh, the pain he must be causing her, Bellatrix! The pain that must be multiplying, manifesting, ready to be used in a vicious and impulsive feat.

"Now!" Harry shouts as we all attack before running. Running, running, my feet are pounding against the tiled floor. The prophecy is tightly held in Harry's hand, I'm almost scared that he's going to crush it from that much pressure. Harry knows what he's doing… Ronald, on the other hand… he seems to be Lestrange's main target.

Think, Hermione, think…

If only I could corner her somehow. Talk to her. No, that won't work, she's in a rage- and I'm pretty sure that she doesn't remember me. Because I'm running everything is a blur, even my thinking. And even though Bellatrix is scores of metres away, I can already feel impulsive actions kick in that only happen when she's around. So this is what I do. I send over the same hex I used on Neville long ago, freezing the Dark Witch in an ice cubicle. But it doesn't work, for as soon as she's frozen she has summoned a fire non-verbally. Drat. I'm going to have to actually capture her, physically. Disillusion Charm, just a weak one. No one can see me as I sprint my way to Bella, not even Bella herself. She's hurtled to the ground, and I apparate us as soon as she begins to try and break free of the invisible force, which is me. We are still in the Department of Mysteries, just in a dark, dark corner where no one can see us. I drop the Disillusion Charm. She can see me. She smirks.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **My goodness, Hermione, you sleep and pass out waaaay too much *cynical laughter* I hope you all enjoy! Please, please let me know how I'm going? I'm kind of in the dark on how I'm doing, is the grammar and vocab alright? Is the plot too confusing? More smut? Less running around? I have a plot in mind but honestly, I'm close to depesperate to know what you would all like to read more of? And trust me, I don't get desperate often… *more laughter* Thank you so much to - acciobonhamcarter! If it wasn't for you I might have abandoned this by now. Anyways, this is the last chapter that will have lines from the books, I just wanted this particular scene to be twisted yet exact, again, I don't mean to hint any sign of plagiarism… That's all for now! Now let's get to the good stuff down here; vv

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Hermione**

"So," her hands are like chains around my wrists. Instead of me cornering her, she holds me captive, the two walls bruising my shoulder blades. Our bodies are pressed together in an uncomfortable way, and her hot breath tickles the shell of my ear. I close my eye, "are you going to tell me your name?" She taunts heavily. "Open your eyes, love…" her hair tickles my cheek, and her fragrance of damp trees and of salt water envelopes me. I open my eyes. Her own eyes are mad. Black. Empty. Cruel. None of that sorrow is there, these are not the eyes I feel in love with, these are not the dark orbs I daydream about. Her face is a mask. No softness is shown, no recognition even with me this close to her. This is not the woman I weep for. This is Madame Bellatrix Black Lestrange. A Death Eater, the most loyal follower of the Dark Lord. This is not Bella, the witch I so passionately kissed. This is not the Bella that makes me so impulsive. She chuckles. Revealing her rotten teeth, and yet, the yellow collection does not reek of decay; rather of mint. These are not the teeth I ran my tongue over. She has changed. "That's better." Her left hand lets go of my wrist to lift my chin. In her heels black leather heels she's several centimetres taller than me. She does not love me. Did she ever?

"You know me," I whisper shakily. Her eyes flash dangerously as her brows come together in a crease- her ruby lips pouting like a child.

"Do I? Oh dear, we mustn't have been introduced very well…" both my wrists are released, her other hand is now fisted in my hair. Her thumb that raised my chin runs over my lower lip, "…did I torture someone close to you?" a cruel smile, "I would remember if I tortured you… so pretty." I almost whimper at her words. She's corrupted. What happened since we last saw each other?

"No." Confusion claims her expressions,

"really? Pray tell, how do I know you, little girl?" I don't think now is the time to tell her. No, not here. I'm here for Sirius, not to go down memory lane with Bellatrix Lestrange. Bella, maybe I would have, but no, not Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I'll tell you," I breathe heavily, trying not to collapse from wobbly knees as her thumb evades my mouth. Tilting my head this way and that under her inspecting gaze "later. I'll tell you later" I finish, hyperventilating. My back aches from being pressed against the wall so hard, this long. But in the next moment Bellatrix's knee is in between my thighs. Before I can think her cheek is beside my cheek, her mouth close to my ear. Her hands both on my waist. She begins to rub her knee against my sensitive spot, and I have to try and push her away, but she's solid as steel.

"Why not tell me now?" her voice comes out husky.

"You loved me once." I let slip, panting. I shouldn't have said that. Wanting to make Bellatrix forget that, "Harry, the Dark Lord. Prophecy. Sirius." I mutter breathless as she continues to grind against me. She stiffens at my words, and suddenly she's gone, she's partly dissolved to black smoke. I've collapsed to the floor, but soon I'm back up on my own two feet. Running, wand drawn. I need to focus.

"STUPEFY!" I scream at a Death Eater who was about to curse us, Harry's wand flies in to the air "_accio wand_," I then stay instinctively.

"Thanks," he grasps hold of the dark wood "right, let's get out of-"

"Look out!" echoes Neville's worried voice, cutting out all the wand shouting loudly and clearly. The Death Eater that I had just stupefied is now up and about, with a bell on his head that he's trying to get off. I watch in fascination as it comes off. He shakes his ugly head, and my feet instantly plaster themselves to the ground. I stare wide-eyed as his beard begins to fade away and soon, there is a baby's head on top of his black-clad shoulders.

"It's time," I whisper with fascination. This really is the Department of Mysteries- "_time_." Funny how both times we're trying to save Sirius we bump in to curious happenings of time. I'm reminiscing about my time turner and our adventures we had saving Sirius when Harry begins to bellow in a questioning manner.

"RON? GINNY? LUNA?" Receiving no reply the messy haired boy points his wand at the Death Eater with the infant head. His face is starting to grow again, and now it's shrinking….

"HARRY!" I interrupt- "you can't hurt a baby!" before he can reply another Death Eater is in the scene, and he is shouting out his location to his other members- to Bellatrix.

"SIlencio!" I screech in an instant. Everything is happening so fast. A purple flame is hurtling towards me. I don't know what to do. I forget to deflect. My arm hang uselessly by my side.

"Oh," and then everything is black. All my senses are gone, but one. I can still hear everything.

**Bellatrix**

Sounds behind a closed door. The shadows of legs brush against the bottom of the door.

"There they are!" I screech with excitement, the girl already gone from my mind. I must please my Tom, make him proud. I am, after all, his most trusted servant. I am his heart and hands, I am his eyes and mind. I must do what he wills me to do, act how he wants me to act. I must get the prophecy, I must maim Potter. The girl is not important. Nor the ginger, the last living male Longbottom. I mustn't get distracted by the girl with the silver hair, or the pathetic Weasley girl. I need that Prophecy.

I'm sprinting towards the door leading towards the boy. The girl is wrapped in his arms. The girl with the bushy hair and the sparkling eyes… I shake my head. Not the time to be thinking about that.

'_You loved me once,'_ comes her voice. I love no one. The door slams right in front of my face. Doors are always slamming in my face. I screech my fury.

"There's another way in!" The words barely sink in before I run off to the next door entrance, which bangs shut, same as the next, and the one after that. Finally I beat the boy to one of the entrances, and we're all in, all of the Death Eaters. All of his most faithful. It's time. It's time to pry that fucking prophecy from his sweaty, pathetic hands.

The girl is conscious now, I can see. She doesn't wake up slowly, she bounces straight in to action. Perfect timing, girl. Now you will see. You will see that I am the monster of the dark. Your darkest nightmare.

Shut up Lucius. I watch as the boy's green eyes come in contact with my own, if only for a heartbeat. And I know, that prophecy is going nowhere near Lucius. Only now does he begin to speak useful shit, "it's Longbottom isn't it? Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members for our cause… your death will not come as a great shock."

"Longbottom?" finally, I have something to go off on- "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents boy. No, no, no, your death won't come as a shock… No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents… unless Potter wants to hand over the damned prophecy." Longbottom, Neville, a pureblood. I can already see the pain in his eyes blue eyes. Blue, just like his father. Potter is looking around with confusion, unsure what to do. How many times will he display his ignorance tonight? And then I remember. I am Bellatrix Lestrange. I show no mercy. I am ruthless. In an instant I am poised, my right arm arched above my head, my wand aimed and pointed, ready to release that electrifying power. My hips are cocked so that they are uneven, my left side lower than my right. And finally. For that one step closer to glory, one step closer to him, to Voldemort.

"_**CRUICO!" **_ the Death Eater holding him, Dolohov, let's go of the writhing boy. He's not going anywhere. I lick my lips as the power surges through me. The power to corrupt this boy, to destroy him to the point where he cannot be stitched back together. Not wholly, at least. Stop, I have to stop.

"That was just a teaser!" I shout. I feel like I'm glowing, feel like a Queen. And the fear, the fear, it is so strong I can almost _taste_ it. And then they come. Like always the ruin it. The white smoke. The peculiar clothes. My cousin in his old pin-striped suit. He shouldn't have come. Not tonight, why did he come? Momentarily I'm rooted there, my hips still cocked, my arm has now turned slack. And there's Tonks. This is my family. Oh, the daggers the throw to my heart when I see them. Why did they come? Why did they come? Why did they come? Shacklebolt begins to attack me. I don't even need to think, I know his style. So simple, so easy to defeat, deflect, oppose. Defeat, deflect, oppose. Levicurpous. Deflect. And then he's on his ass. I flit my eyes through all the sparks and smoke. Nymphadora, no matter how tainted her blood is, no matter how much I want to kill her, I know that I can't. I promised Andy to save all her children, before she had even been pregnant with the filthy child. And it is in the Black blood to keep promises.

But Sirius, I have no promise to keep him alive. I need to prove how much I am worth it. I need to prove the boundaries I will cross for my dear Tom; I know that he knows, but perhaps he needs some reminding… Another person of the Order comes up to me. Urgh, their tactics are so weak. I don't even have to think. And then I'm close enough. Lucius and Sirius. They pause for a moment. And I take this moment. This moment to take away his last breath. In my rage and fury, for all the times my cousin teased my attitude, my clothing, my choices. For the times he put the blame on me. For the times he was the reason a belt was whipping my backside. I mutter the words. And the words magnify, intensify as the jet of green comes hurtling towards him. Avada kedavra. The words that have slipped from my lips so often. It is only then that I realise what I had done.

Only then that my anger fades away. I feel that familiar shattering inside of me. No regrets, no guilt. I have to push it aside. I am not allowed to feel. I can't take it back now. My mind becomes a buzz. I cynically smile, heading towards the exit. Potter. The devastation, the anger… the loss. It is all written on him. He is trying to attack me. I deserve to die. But like always, I run. I run, run, run. I run. Away, as fast as I can. This could be a game. But I know it is not. I make myself believe, that this is all just a game.

"He's coming to get me!" I sing out, as if this is just a game of chasings. And then I'm horrified as other words slip out, words that make what just happened true. "I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black!" Yes, Sirius Black- I killed my cousin. I killed him. In a flash. In a flash of green light that had at the time made me feel, oh, so glorified. And now? Now I have crumpled. The girl. The girl had looked at me, oh, how her gaze had pierced me.

'_You loved me once.' _

I never did love you, I do not know who you are, bushy haired girl. And now, now you should not love me, you never loved me either, I do not remember opening my locked doors for you, little girl.  
"I killed Sirius Black!" Why am I still saying that? Why?

His pounding footsteps echo, echo, echo.

"He's coming to get me!"

"Crucio!" He shouts, "CRUCIO, CRUCIO, CRUCIO!" he keep missing. "CRUUUCCIO!" the curse hits my heel, causing me to stumble and fall. I'm on the floor, so close to disappearing, to escaping. The Floo Network is just right here, the closest grate only a metre away. Just need to crawl. But as soon as the boy's green eyes catch my own for the third time this night, I cannot move. He is so angry. So driven by grief. This is it. This is the end. Thank the bloodlines, now it is my turn. It is my turn to die. I look at him with wide eyes, my lower lip trembling. His wand is pointed, but he can't seem to let loose his tongue. He says nothing. And then I notice. Potter's eyes flash a bright blue. He rolls his head. He is here. Voldemort. Inside the boy. And then he is there. I laugh. Not tonight. I will not die tonight. And then, like always, always- I am gone. Gone in to the darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **Eeeeeek! I have a new chapter for you all, I don't know if you're as excited as me, but here goes fifteen! Please review?

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Hermione**

Everything seems to be frozen in time. Time. For a moment you could see it. That sorrow. Her cruel mask was taken off to reveal the woman I love. I had marvelled at the transformation, and was fascinated furthermore as she put the demeaning mask back on as quickly as it had come off. And then the fighting really began. Sparks, smoke, jests of light. Everything became a haze and my skin was often singed as hexes passed me by. And then everything was frozen again. Every one watching. I watched in horror as the dark woman poised herself. I know that stance. The Killing Curse. Her voice echoes. Powerful, strong, clear. I watch as his legs begin to give way. Watch with dread as he falls in to the arch. The arch with nothing there. He's gone. Gone through the arch, as if there was a black hole, a vacuum sucking him in to the unknown. Harry screams, and Professor Lupin has to grab hold of him. My own emotions seem to blank out.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU COWARD!" echo, echo, echo, "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, COME BACK HERE!" She's already out. Not even a lock of hair to be seen. I try not to hate her. But I do.

Harry managed to break free. Wand drawn, anger written upon his face. Pain. So many emotions that one so young isn't meant to feel in a dose this big. Nobody moves. After what seems like a century the Death Eaters disperse. My feet feel like they weigh a tonne as I start my slow march towards the exit both Madame Lestrange and Harry went through. Everyone else follows me.

We look through scores of rooms, but Harry's voice cannot be heard- and neither the witch nor the wizard can be seen in the rooms we enter. We keep going, making a snail-like procession to the heart of the Ministry of Magic. He's there. He is not alone. Fear claws at me with physical talons. I know that I've stopped in my tracks. Madame Lestrange is nowhere to be seen, and I'm somewhat glad of that.

They seem to be in a dome of snow. Dumbledore is on his knees, Harry is in his arms. His usually green eyes now shining an inhuman blue. His teeth are clenched together in pain. I want to scream out to him. Try to help him. But my throat clenches with an unknown feeling. It is too quiet in here. It's eerie. And then he turns around. The wizard in the faded olive green robes. I should have mentioned him earlier. Should have noticed his inhumanly pale head from the back. But the truth is, I was trying to ignore him. Trying to tell myself that it isn't actually _him_. A sadistic smile creeps to the dark wizard's lips. I feel like I've been frozen on the outside, and on the inside I feel like Hell has resided in my stomach.

There is a cackling of fire. The Floo Network is all lit up from all the entrances being used at once. If I weren't in these circumstances, I would say it looks beautiful. The green embers blasting in unison as more and more people come. Conrelius Fudge stops in his tracks. Voldemort looks to him, and the he disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

"He's back," mutters Cornelius. "He's back."

And in that moment, everything becomes real, becomes true. In this moment the future is once again defined for the Wizarding World. We are doomed.

So many lights are flashing, blinding me.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!" comes a crowd of voices. Dumbledore turns him away.

**Bellatrix**

It burns my throat. As soon as it reaches to the bottom of my stomach I take of a puff of my cigar.

'Ladies don't smoke cigars,' the man who I once called father had told me. Ladies don't smoke cigars, because cigars represent power and wealth. And so I asked him why Mother didn't smoke cigars, and I asked because she was and is a Black. And the Black family has always been both powerful, and wealthy; and so he simply said. 'Ladies must be of elegance.' So now I'm showing him, that ladies can be elegant and smoke cigars at the same time.

I'm downing a bottle of fire-whiskey and smoking my cigar- and nothing _really_ bad has happened to me now, has it? I giggle at the thought. I tell a lie. Many a bad things have happened to me, and they _were _because of whiskey and cigars- for that's what intoxicated father… and, well, lots of things happened when he was intoxicated. Oh, deary, deary me, I need to get a grip on myself. I ought not to be travelling down this lane, memory lane. Memory lane is bad, oh, so very, very bad.

I feel like dancing.

I have no one to dance with.

I can't slow dance by myself.

Well, actually, yes I can.

But I don't want to.

"CISSY?!" I shout at the mirror, "CISSY, CISSY, WHERE ARE YOU, MY CISSY?" the mirror around my wrist wavers and my reflection is gone. It is replace by Narcissa's snooty gaze.

"Yes, dear sister?"

"I cordially invite you to the sitting room," I announce in a manner that mocks the gentlemen of the 1800's.

"I accept your invitation… with pleasure." And then I'm staring at myself again. Hollow. Hollow eyes, expression… everything is hollow- but beautiful. Still beautiful. I am still beautiful.

I look away from the mirror and take another swig.

Take away my memories and pain. I'm relying on you Mr. Firewhiskey; and you should know that I don't rely on many people, or many things for this matter- no offence Mr Firewhiskey. Hee hee, Mr. Firewhiskey. Whiskey, Mister, Fire, Fire, Whiskey, Mister. Mister Mister- sister.

"Ah! There you are!" I exclaim as my younger sister promenades over. Her glorious golden waves are loose, hanging to her thighs. The bodice of her black satin dress desperately clings to her curves, but from the waist down the dark material cascades in ripples. The door hangs slightly open behind her, but with a gentle gust of wind it slams shut. We meet in the middle of the area, "dance with me," I whisper. Her eyes sweep across my being, her face showing no expression. I grasp her hand drunkenly. 'What's the matter, Narcissa? Is something wrong?" She lifts her gaze to me. No haughtiness. No sarcastic remark already beginning to bloom behind those pretty lashes. Her blue orbs are so expressionless.

"Nothing, nothing" the younger witch murmurs through her scarlet lips. The welcomed feeling of burning happiness and carelessness is thrown out of me and I am instead evaded by concern and panic.

"Narcissa." I say gently, clipped.

"It's you Bella!" she bursts, taking several steps back from me. Her eyes definitely filled with emotion now, filled with anger, blazing anger that tinges her irises a darker shade of blue "The problem is you! Your words, your insults, your curses and memories- they all just echo in my fucking head! All I can hear is you, all the time. All I can see is you, all the god damned time! Just back off! Okay? Just fucking back off!" and with that she exits, the skirt of her dress billowing behind her like the ocean in a storm. A lock of a blonde curl and then she's disappeared.

I collapse.

The lights dim down, the music fades away and the fire loses its warmth as it returns to black embers.

I collapse.

I breakdown.

I fall.

I fold in to myself.

There is nothing to hold on to. Again and again. Again and again. He comes. The darkness. Darkness is my oldest friend, and sometimes he brings me comfort; and other times he brings me Hell. I shouldn't have killed Sirius. Tom hasn't even acknowledged the deed. I'm so tangled. I'm beginning to lose the line of reality and my imagination. Was there ever a defined line? Is my mind really fully here? If not- where is my mind?

Sometimes I feel like I have no soul; and then reality will hit me. I _don't _own a soul in this pale body. It was _taken_, swept away with a kiss from a hooded figure of asexual produce. A dementor. I had managed to contain some of my soul in my body, and since then nothing has really been the same. Nothing has really been crystal clear. Everything seems like it has a dark, thunderous cloud hovering above it. Even my memories have been tainted with darkness. I can't remember anything in a positive light. But I do know, I do know that I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for Sirius. I can understand why he left me in Azkaban. Why, in his animagus form, he had stared at me with those luminous eyes and prowled off in to the dangerous night without me. Remorse. I owe my life to him, and I killed him. How many times had he talked me out of committing suicide in my adolescent years?

And that girl. That bushy-haired girl.

'_You know me.' _

I cannot love. I do not have the capability.

'_You loved me once.' _

I have the capability to hate, to kill, to scream in a raging fury.

But to be happy? To be alright, stable… to love?

My soul is not whole, and neither is my heart- or my mind.

With my back pressed against the back of a leather couch I let the waterworks flow. There is no reason to stay strong anymore. I can be strong in the morning. But my sister hates me, and I hate me, and I do not know what to do. I do not know how to feel, how to think. Everything has just been thrown together to increase this dark void. Drunk and alone, dizzy and dry-eyed I

F

A

L

L

asleep. I enter a world where nothing matters, and Tom is kissing me behind the supply closet during DADA. And then there is a girl pushing him aside. A girl with chocolate brown eyes and light, frizzy hair. And she is crying, crying, crying. Maybe sleep will no longer be my dark paradise.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note**: I want to write some smut sooo bad but I can't until, I don't know- until about chapter twenty; omh that makes me sound like such a horny smut writer *laughter* dw, loves I'm shutting up now. This one's a long chapter, loves! Brace yourself, and I hope you enjoy

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Hermione**

No one says a word. Harry stares in to the fireplace, but he has a soft haze over his eyes. He isn't present. He is far away. Thinking. So I startle a bit when he breaks the silence.

"He's still alive" more silence. Oh, Harry, I know that this is hard for you, it's hard for me too… I daren't say a word. He is not in a fit state to comprehend what I am about to say to him, what I will _not_ say to him.

Sirius is dead. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. He is not coming back.

I gaze at Harry. Too many losses. Too much grief, for a boy so young. A boy so young, that's what everyone says- but Harry is much older than his years. Although, sometimes he does act like a complete immature schoolboy- and the only reason I put up with it? Because that's exactly what he is- a school boy, and _that_ is what he deserves, not _this_, not sorrow. Happiness. When he is being completely immature; he isn't worrying about anything else other than the completely stupid thing he is doing. Happy, he is in a state of happiness. The green-eyed boy has lips pressed tightly together, almost in a line that resembles Professor McGonagall. I almost laugh at the thought, but not in this situation.

"Did you hear me?" he swivels around to look at us. When neither of us say anything, he looks at the fire again, "he's still alive." He repeats. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to comfort him. This is a situation that I can't read or learn about. I sigh. Ron also has that haze over his eyes. I feel like I should be sadder, more… I. Don't. Know. If anything I feel guilty. I need to talk to someone. I need help, guidance- I want to know how to help Harry, other than hugging him when he can't even feel it. He can't feel anything at the moment. I don't think Ronald can either. I stand up from the cushioned seat and head towards the Fat Lady. With a sad face she lets me go outside, and I can feel her eyes drilling in to my back. Gossiping, she knows about all this from gossiping. Nosy woman.

Not knowing where to go, I let my feet guide me. All I know is that I need help. Soon enough my fist is ready to knock on weathered wood. The door swings open to reveal a sleepy-eyed woman with a tartan dressing gown. Rubbing her eyes she looks at me in a daze,

"Is everything alright, Albus?" her brows knit together.

"Um, Professor, it's me… Miss Granger?" the older woman clutches at her throat in shock.

"Miss Granger! Oh my, I am so sorry! How on Earth could I have mistaken you as… oh my!" she waves her hands frantically as she speaks. I can feel my blood rushing up to colour my cheeks at seeing the respected teacher in such a flustered state. She pauses, "but Granger- what are you doing out of your dormitory this late? It must be at least two o'clock in the morning." I open my mouth, and close it again.  
"Er, I was- I, you see… I need help,"

"oh." There's a long sail of silence. The Charms Professor steps aside, "come in." Tediously I step in to the premises. The scene hasn't changed much since I was least here. Although I now notice the bed pushed against the East Wall, the bed sheets are all ruffled and the curtains around it are ripped open. She must have come to the door in a rush. "Please, take a seat, would you like some tea?" the witch doesn't even wait for my answer. She walks over to a corner and begins preparing a cuppa, and is that- is that Muggle kettle? I look away before more questions begin to bubble.

For a few moments Professor McGonagall tinkers about, and then there is the sound of the kettle screeching, the sound of tree branches swaying and there is a chilly wind breezing in from an open window. As she walks over quickly with a steaming tea set I sit down, she delicately places herself upon the seat opposite me, setting the tray on the small coffee table between us. The tea is poured.

"Are you here because of Madame Lestrange?" the older witch asks the same time I say,

"I'm here about Harry. I'm worried." Lucky I didn't hear her question, but there is still a long pause.

"Yes, Mr. Potter" I give one nod.

"I don't know what to do,"

"Well, what do you mean, Miss Granger?" I twiddle my thumbs.

"I mean, that I want to help him carry his burden, his grief- and I don't know how to." Professor McGonagall blinks her tired eyes at me in a pensive way.

"Have a biscuit, Granger" a jar of assorted biscuits appear out of nowhere, and her worried gander is what makes me reach for a butterscotch finger. "I believe…" she sighs "I believe that you cannot help in that area, Miss Granger- all you can do is be a shoulder to lean on." She looks away, "Potter is such a strong, strong young man," tears well in her eyes. "He will find his way, and, Professor Dumbledore will help Potter find himself again. Though, of course, he will not be the same as before."

I let that sink in for a little while. He will not be the same as before. Of course not, we change every second- and this, this loss, it will change everything. I know that this has changed _me, _in many ways. So many ways. Be a shoulder to lean on. Maybe that's all he needs at the moment. A shoulder to lean on. I take a sip of tea- white earl grey. Creamy. Fragrant. The type of tea that warms you up like a hug, and causes you to smile. But the corners of my lips don't seem to want to tug upwards, only downwards.

"Thank you, Professor," I say finally. She smiles sadly, her faded blue eyes twinkling. "I'll, um, I'll leave you now."

"Sit down, Miss Granger! You haven't even finished your cup of tea," comes her remark as I stand up- I place myself back on the leather couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Confused I answer with my own question, "about…?"

"About your situation," she says almost uncomfortably.

"My situation?" I can tell that we're both rather perplexed, "you don't need to sugar coat it otherwise I'll just get so befuddled." the other woman clears her throat.

" I don't really know if you want to talk about this right now, Miss Granger- it's probably wrong of me to bring it up now, after Sirius… no, perhaps I really shouldn't." Now she's got me intrigued. Curious, I can't stop myself.

"Go ahead, you can ask."

"Has Professor Dumbledore explained to you your circumstances with Madame Lestrange?" I look down as the emotions crash about me. I feel perturbed, guilty, ashamed… I feel disgusted with myself at the mention of her name. Madame Lestrange. The fanatical servant of Voldemort.

"I got his letter… and I was very confused about it- but he mentioned nothing about circumstances."

"Oh, I see," she sets her tea cup aside, "well then- you may leave now, Miss Granger- and _sleep_."

The corridors are dark. No light seeps through the cold walls. In the morning I know what will be on the front page of the Daily Prophet. I know that the Great Hall will be bursting with fear and excitement. But for now there is nothing. Apart from my deep breathing, there are no other sounds that might give away human existence. As a Prefect, it'll be my duty, my duty to… I don't know. For once I don't know. I feel like I know nothing. I don't like that feeling. I don't like the feeling of not being content. I don't like walking down these hallways when I know how many dark wizards studies here. Like Bellatrix. Or, Madame Lestrange. Sometimes I see her, when I'm on my way to class. A younger her, a fair woman with dark features- a young lady that had unknowingly captured the pinnacle of beauty. I see her leaning against walls, lazily yet delicately propped on chairs, gazing at me through heavily lidded eyes. Never talking to me, but always observing, always present. Sometimes I see her- _sometimes_ meaning all the time.

Soon I reach the Fat Lady, "finally! There you are!" she exclaims wearily "been waiting up all night for you, I have!" Tired, I rub my eyes.

"Sorry,"

"Yeah, sure- password?"

"_Dulcis tantibus,_" I clamber down the Gryffindor stairs, and then drag myself up another flight to the girls dorm. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm out.

_She has her back turned to me but I already know who she is. Everything is black and white, making her appearance even more dramatic. We're in the Gryffindor Dorm and she leans against a bed post, __**my **__bed post. I sit upright, bed sheets twisting around my body. _

'_It's so dark,' the woman whispers, 'so cold.' Impulsively I attempt to make a run for it. She's not meant to be here. I don't want her here. But her reflexes are so much faster than mine, she pins me down to the bed as she rolls in, tucking herself in the soft fabric. 'Not so fast, my love.' The dark beauty goes on top of me slowly, placing myself in between her thighs. Not knowing what to do I just lay there, and look in to her black, black eyes that reflect madness. Her hands are on each side of my head, grasping the sheets, I'm thoroughly trapped. She lowers her face so that our foreheads are touching. I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to miss a second of this. Her aroma of pine and mint is so strong that it's almost like a blanket. Her forehead is smooth and chilled, her hair is like a veil, shrouding us in to an even darker room where nothing can be seen. I can't see her expression. _

'_You can't run from me,' she says in a much more soften tone than before- almost breathlessly. 'You can't hide from me. I am your darkest desire, your sweetest nightmare. I'm trapped here. Inside your head.' I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. _

'_What the fuck are you doing, Bella?! Get off that vermin, you might dirty your blood!' comes another voice, the woman on top of me lifts her head along with her veil of hair, I can see. Standing across the room is Madame Lestrange, and the woman still sitting on top of me… is Bella… I pinch myself and nothing happens. 'Granger?' Madame Lestrange screeches, 'but, but I've forgotten you!' the dark witch lets out a scream of frustration, 'CRUCIO!' But Bella moves me, dodging the curse. _

"_That's me," Bella whispers, that's my crazy, future self… I better talk to her again- I've got to leave you now and give her a little visit…' Already so perplexed, Bella, the woman I love, the woman with the eyes of sorrow- kisses me softly before saying. _

'_I'll deal with her- but you need to help me okay? You need to make her remember.' _

I awake by sitting bolt upright, twisted in sheets- I almost expect to see Bella at my bed post. But who I see is even more alarming. Dumbledore. In the girl's dorm. He raises a finger to his mouth in a silencing motion and stretches out his other hand towards me, as if telling me to grab hold, so I do. With a crack and the twist of my stomach my feet make hard contact with Dumbledore's office. I instantly sit down, and so does the Wizard.

"What was your nightmare about?" I glance away,

"nothing, really. I was just facing my boggart." He knows that I'm lying, but he acts along.

"May I ask, what your boggart is? Such a bright girl, like you, I wouldn't expect a fear of bubbles or anything of the sort…" I clear my throat and make eye contact with him,

"my boggart take on the form of Professor McGonagall telling me that I've failed all my grades." Not seeming surprised the Wizard smiles,

"I was just talking to Harry…" he scans my face, "are you ready, Miss Granger?" A soft squeak comes out of my mouth as soon as it is opened. Instantly shutting the entrance I simply nod my head. "Right then, let's begin" the ancient man raises a glass of water to his already moist lips, and then he begins. "As I was saying, I was just talking to Harry, and one of the matters we discussed was about his prophecy. You see, I was telling him how everyone has a prophecy, every wizard, every witch, even every Muggle… so that means, of course, that you have one too. But the peculiar thing is, that just like Harry and Voldemort- your prophecy is connected to the one and only… Madame Bellatrix Black Lestrange." Sharp intake of breath. Blood rushes to my cheeks, he continues. "Would you like me to recite you prophecy, Hermione?" He says my name almost hesitantly, but when he says it, it's comforting, and soft.

"Ye-" my voice cracks and morphs in to an almost inaudible whisper. "Yes, please."

"Okay,

'_A dark pinnacle of beauty, _

_Trapped inside her mind_

_Needs to be saved or _

_She will destroy mankind. _

_The one who will save her_

_Will be as innocent as a dove, _

_It will be hard and unexpected but_

_They will fall in love. _

_Their love will be both_

_A beacon and a secret, _

_For there is one man who _

_May destroy it. _

_It will all be forgotten, _

_But the child holds the key. _

_The child with the raven locks, _

_The child who is their destiny.'"_

He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my reply. I play the words over and over again in my mind._ 'The child with the raven locks.'_

Finally I know what to say.

"How can two women conceive a child?" Dumbledore, appearing astounded by my reply, opens and closes his mouth like a man in desperate need for water.

"Well, well, anything is possible," he explains with his hands. "Anything is possible, Miss Granger," he announces with a more steady voice, "especially with a little bit of magic." I feel nothing, nothing and everything. I can feel the marvels of this situation frightening me and delighting me at the same time. Things are going to work out for Bella and I, it's definite. She can't go one pretending to forget me forever, right? Or maybe she actually has…?

"Professor, I don't think that this is possible," he raises his silver brows. "I don't think that this is possible. She's already forgotten me, she seems to be returning to the Dark Side- the woman that I met at the graveyard… is now back to being a ruthless lunatic! You were just telling me that you were talking to Harry, right? Well you know, don't you? You know that she killed _him,_ you know that she is still devoted to her, 'Dark Lord'! Maybe I was in love with that woman at one point, I don't know, I don't really have voice about that- because I don't even know what true love is! Well, I do, but not in that romantic-" I break down.

"Hermione," he whispers. "Hermione, look at me." Ashamed for crying in the Professor's office (AGAIN) I don't want to look at him. I just want to get out of here, and cuddle myself to sleep, and just hope that she won't evade my dreams. "You can talk to me," his hand is placed on my shoulder "why are you ashamed? Why don't you want to show your face?" he questions softly. I try to contain my tears, which only causes hiccups. "Is it because you love her, because you love another woman?"

Involuntarily my head gives way to a nod. I haven't admitted it to myself, but I know that amongst all the thousands of things why I'm ashamed of myself, that's one of them. I know it shouldn't matter, I don't mind other people loving other people of the same gender- but it just seems strange for me to be doing it. I catch myself fantasising about her, and I want to stop because, well, because she's a woman.

"It's alright, Hermione- everything is going to be alright in the end."

"That's not how it feels, though- you don't know how it feels!" I let out in a fast stutter, it sounds almost incomprehensive.

"You know, once upon a time" the wizard chuckles, "a very long time ago, I fell in love." Having captivated me with those lines, I do my best to stop the tears, and I listen. "His name, was- is Gellert Grindelwald. Yes, Miss Granger, I fell in love with a man. And let me tell you now, that what you are feeling? It _is _love, Hermione, love. True, real love- and I can feel it radiating from you, and that type of love? Well, let's just say that it doesn't happen every day." He smiles all the while, eyes twinkling like a diamond, "it's so rare- that personally, I believe that it doesn't matter what gender, race, religion they are- you should love them, because that is the right thing, because you don't come across that type of love every day. You can never love the same twice, which is why, when we find any type of love; we must seize it!" I smile. Such wise words, such a kind man. With the sadness slowly creeping away I feel a wave of sleepiness take over. "Go back to sleep," the wizard says, eyes still twinkling, "you have three more hours before a very hard day." I stand up to leave, "and Miss Granger- your question about Harry? That you asked Professor McGonagall? Time, he needs time- and a shoulder to lean on. Knowing that someone is there for him is all that he needs for now, there isn't much you can do. Good night, Miss Granger, good night."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: **Is this all making sense so far, omh- I'm so scared that all of this doesn't make any sense and *sobbing* I'm so sorry for such a late update! *kind of been desperately searching for Bellamione FanFics, as depressing as it sounds, I've already read them all, and I've been hooked up with SwanQueen, I mean, omh* Please review? I'm kind of in need of some more motivation.

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Hermione**

When I wake up the memories of early this morning rush to mind.

Dumbledore is gay. I'm going to be pregnant one day, with a woman. I'm in love with Bella- and I shouldn't be ashamed. I need to save her.

The Great Hall is silent when Harry, Ron and I walk in, everyone stares, some trying not to and others obviously not caring how rude they look.

"What… are you all… gendering at?" questions Snape in his drowsy voice. Close to every being with eyes looks away, hurriedly eating their breakfast. Whispers start up, but they're so soft that they sound like a mid-summer breeze.

Harry looks like he's about to remark about something, his eyes look like they could burn through gold in seconds. It almost scares me to see him like this. All tensed and ready to pounce.

We place ourselves in our usual seat, and Ginny is already there, munching away. Ronald instantly piles up his plate and Harry just has two slices of buttered toast.

I try to swallow down some porridge but it doesn't seem to want to digest. It just sticks in my throat, waiting to be thrown up. So I drain a cup of orange juice and it easily slides down.

That's when I see you. Twirling your dark curls at the table corner, seeming quite ignorant to all your fellow Slytherins. I squint, and then you're gone.

He makes eye contact with me, Draco. And it all comes running back, again, like always. It always comes back when he looks at me. That night. The night I went looking for you and ended up being fucked by his Mother… I wonder if he knows, about that, about us- you and me. Me and you. I wonder if you mind me calling us, 'us'. I also wonder if you actually have forgotten me, or if you're just faking it. But I don't think anyone can do that, can they? Not show that spark of recognition when you recognise someone? Well, if it is possible then you've definitely accomplished it. And if it isn't possible… then you out of all people, with your dark eyes, can make it possible.

You can make anything possible.

Back to Draco, he looks away. And so do I. I look away.

**Bellatrix**

I wake up panting and beaded with sweat.

Nightmares, again. Nightmares of a different me telling me what to do. I won't let her win.

Hermione is her name, Hermione Granger. At least that is what the other I in my dream had said; I'll call her my chains. The weak 'me'. I will call her my chains- like the chains I wore for twelve years in Azkaban. Those heavy metal chains that had restricted me to those cold walls. Just like those chains I will break free from them.

I can feel a familiar throbbing, so familiar that I now find it pleasant… and enticing. My Dark Mark. The snake is moving, rattling left to right. He is summoning me. The Dark Lord, my Dark Lord. Excitement courses my body as I practically jump out of the bed, pulling on my usual black gear and hastily smacking on some lipstick. I look myself over in the mirror, I smirk.

I have to force myself not to apparate or run down the hallway. Heaving reached the door, his door, I knock- three beats, rest, five beats.

"It's open, Bella" I saunter in. He stands there, facing me with his head slightly bowed.

"My Lord," I whisper as I close the door. I can feel my heart begin to play a faster yet steady beat than normal. I can feel a hot boiling in my stomach and my head goes slightly dizzy. In a clumsy manner I bow, my fingertips brushing against the ground.

"I have… a task for you," my lover says slowly.

"Yes, my Lord!" I look at him with fanatic adoration that I am unaware of. I can feel my muscles coiling within me at the excitement of a new 'task'. I don't feel like an abandoned little girl anymore, I am wanted. He wants me- and I will do whatever he asks.

"You see this Cup?" He reveals a golden cup, elaborate engravings cover everywhere but the rims. He holds as if it is a fragile thing, something dear to him- and I know straight away that it should be dear to me as well. I nod. "I want you to hide it, keep it, guard it with your _soul- _guard it as if a piece of me is inside this ornament." He turns his blood red eyes to me that had once been the colour of the bluest summer sky. His lips are slightly parted, his usually pale skin only a shade brighter than before. And then I know. He did it. So many years ago he had been talking about creating these things… and he has. He has- and I will guard it. I will guard it as if both our souls are trapped inside.

**Hermione**

**('The Golden Trio' are entering their fifth year- we are going in to the time frame of Half-Blood Prince) **

"Where's Dumbledore," Harry questions, his eyes full of so many negative emotions, his body tense. I ponder for an answer, but none comes.  
"I don't know, Harry, I- I actually haven't seen him since about Monday… I haven't even seen him at the Great Hall during dinner." I reply in a rush, he runs off, asking every single student.

I worry for him.

I worry for him so much.

I go back to doing my homework, Professor McGonagall has extended the assignment for me- I have to do extra research therefore I have to write extra pages- five more to be precise. I have to learn about how potions and charms can often combine to create a better effect for something… and my goodness it's fascinating. I wonder if you found all this fascinating, Bella, or maybe you didn't care about your grades? Maybe you wasted that beautiful mind of yours- it's damaged already, so why should you give a damn about how nightshade is a combination of ten different plant species?

I still can't stop thinking about you- I don't know how to get to you; according to the other you, the real Bella that I fell in love with, I need to help you regain the memory of me. So I've been in the library, searching for memory cures and remembering charms, and the only ideal thing I sourced was the most obvious one, via Pensieve. Where I extract my memory and put it into a certain type of substance… and then you dunk your pretty head in and watch… although, I don't know how to get you to do that. You can't exactly just rock up to Hogwarts and burrow a Pensieve. So many obstacles, but I will overcome them.

I still can't believe the Prophecy.

I still can't believe that we're going to have a child together.

What about this war?

How hard will it be to break down those strong walls that you have once again built up around your heart and mind? How hard will it be to make you fall in love with me again?

I look back at my assignment, it's Thursday today and it's not even due till next Friday- I'm already three quarters of a way through. I want to take a break, I want to think about you, and Harry and Ronald, I want to remind myself about Voldemort- I need to plan. I want to think about the life I will lead when I am older, what profession I'll have if we make it through all of this. I'm so scared. I'm so excited. I'm so naïve. I want to think about what our child might look like- a girl or a boy? Either way, I know that I'll be happy. If I make it through this, if we make it through this- I know that we'll be happy.

I still remember what happened so many weeks ago, how could I forget?

How can I forget the way your eyes turned mad as you killed him? How will I ever forget the sight of Voldemort leaning over Harry?

Nobody had believed us when we had told everyone that Voldemort is back, and now that the Prophet has made it announced that he's back… no one will shut up about it, even though the holidays have passed the gossip hasn't died down. And even though everyone is so scared, so timid- it doesn't seem to stop them from spreading rumours.

I want to see you, Bella, when will I see you?

I've been waiting, I've been waiting for so long.

How is that pretty mind of yours going?

Does it think of me, does it remember me?

**{I hope this isn't going all confusing, haha, cliffhanger- I'll do my best to update soon, loves} **


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** Update! Yeah, yeah, yeah! The creative juices are flowing like a river- loves, just to warn you; if you may not have noticed Bella is (kind of) an alcoholic and in future chapters self-harm and suicidal thoughts may occur- now, I am aware that these are VERY sensitive subjects, so if it may harm you either mentally and physically, well, I don't want to lose any of you, okay?! Okay, so please don't read ahead if you aren't prepared for that, you all do know that I love you right? I don't care about your weight, religion, race- I don't care if you are trans, gay, bi or even if you have three eyes; all of you matter! You all need to remember that, I know that I'm verging off topic here, but I do that a lot, and you all need to hear/read this, so yes, okay. Enjoy… and this is just a short one- but Chapter Nineteen is going to be… well, BOOM. Oh, and-

**Mnmpowers- Hee hee, why thank you for your motivation, I actually went down to the stores to buy some choc chip cookies- I'm forcing myself to only eat one each chapter, and boy is it working!**

**Also, thank you so much for your review, I **

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Bellatrix**

It is hidden, the cup. The cup that contains his soul. No one will find it, no one will get it. He will remain immortal. I've hidden it in my vault, the Lestrange vault… where no one will touch it. No one but Tom and myself, not even Rodulphus will know about it.

He came to me last night- Rodulphus. He rested his head on my shoulder, well, he tried to anyway. He spoke of running off before the war started. What a coward! How un-noble! I still can't believe that I married him, but I did. I still can't believe that his cock has been inside of me… that his hands have fondled with my breasts. Why didn't I just say no? I was so weak when I was younger. But then again, I still owe him my life- as strange as it sounds.

_**(The Summer or 1965)**_

_I look down at the running stream, I admire how wild and free it is- how the liquid seems to seep to whatever place it can find. I want to be like that. I want to be free. Sometimes I am free, in the form of my animagus which takes form of a fox. Which, quite strangely is also my patronus charm. _

_But I want to be free forever. _

_I can't run away. _

_I hitch up my skirt. Now or never. I don't want to close my eyes. _

_I want to leave, I want to become nothing, and to become nothing is to become everything. Nobody loves me, not really. Cissa and Andy will understand, they can protect themselves now. I'm tired. I'm so tired of taking all those blows, tired of healing myself from my Father's abusive hits and hexes. Tired of constantly feeling like I'm drowning, like there isn't enough room for me to exist. Bellatrix Black. Such an important name, such a pretty face- and so weak. I'm weak for doing what I'm about to do. A coward. But I don't care. I'll die anyway, he'll kill me… especially if Father finds out about who I fancy. Tom Riddle… a half-blood. But I don't care about that. I don't care about the blood that runs through his veins, I now that I'm meant to… I'm better than him, 'purer' than him. What's the difference? I'm not in love with his blood, I'm in love with him- and the only reason why I hate Andy so much at the moment is because she's just fourteen years old… just fourteen- and she has the bravery to love a muggle-born, in piblic. Father will kill her, Mother will disown her. Maybe I shouldn't leave… _

_Now or Never. _

_I jump._

_The wind feels like silk through my fingers. I don't scream. I can feel a smile spread across my face, I'm plummeting, _

_F_

_A_

_L_

_L_

_I_

_N_

_G_

_D_

_O_

_W_

_N,_

_D_

_O_

_W_

_N_

_To freedom. I can almost hear the Marche Slave playing in my head. Good bye, cruel world. Good bye to the mysteries out there, that I will never see even if I were to stay alive. _

_Down_

_Down _

_Down_

_I plummet to meet the raging river. _

_But I never get to feel the icy water against my cheeks. I am floating, soaring. I laugh, I laugh, I laugh. I am floating, soaring. I am free. There was no pain, is this beyond the veil already? I don't care, I am free. And then all of a sudden, I am dwindling, dropping to make freezing contact with a mound of snow. I am breathing, my heart is beating, I am alive. In another attempt I try to run to the river, I try to dive in- but I am getting nowhere. Nowhere. _

"_WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" I spin around in surprise to see a young man in dark green robes, the colour of pines. His head home to a thick amount of hair that shags down to his shoulders, and although he looks so young, facial hair already covers the lower half of his face. Stubble. I'm alive. I fall down to my knees, and I sob. I want to leave. I want to leave. _

**Hermione**

I can't do this anymore. I'm going to you. I need to see you.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: **Things are about to get sticky… *laughter*

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Bellatrix**

"Draco, I know that it hurts" the young boy is on his hands and knees. He looks up with his pale gray-blue eyes, a mixture of his mother's and his father's. His white shirt makes him appear so, so much paler- abnormally pale. "Come on now, I'll give you a head start. Block your mind, and get up on your feet while you're at it." Uneasily he stands, and he closes his eyes.

I feel the familiar feeling of electricity running through my veins, waiting to burst through my wand, boiling my mind with so much power. He nods.

"Legilimens," I mutter. There's a loud zapping noise as the silvery blue electricity runs out of my wand. Draco shuts his eyes close, his brows already knitting tightly together. A sheet of sweat is already beginning to thicken as he purses his lips- but he remains standing. I'm in his mind now, images of Hogwarts drifting past like a steady stream. One morphing in to another. Emotions that are not my own threaten to make me get out of his head. I can feel him slowly making mentally strong bricks around his memories, attempting to protect them- but as soon as they start I break through… nothing interesting really, Lucius yelling, eating alone in the Great Hall, practicing hexes and curses in spare rooms over and over again. And then this. Love. Curiousity overrides all the emptions within as I spy in to his memories. It's hard trying to keep inside, he's trying to push me out. But I see it none the less. The girl. Hermione.

**Hermione**

He came to me at midnight. His hair taking on the appearance of a cloud, his eyes all red and puffy. He looks like he hasn't slept in decades. Perhaps he hasn't.

"Granger," it doesn't sound the same. There is not even an ounce of loathing, not a glint in his pale blue eyes- that seem even bluer due to his pale face. He looks ill. He looks underfed. "Take my hand." I glance down at his already stretched out hand. I don't even ask why. I just do it.

There is a blade at my neck, already drawing blood from my movement of landing. I don't even have to think to know who's handle that belongs to. The aesthetic snake head is held in a small yet long-fingered white hand. Bellatrix. I look up in to her eyes. No. Not Bellatrix. Madame Lestrange. A raging lunatic with eyes that shine madness, her lips pursed together as if there are too many angry thoughts going through her head.

"Leave us," she whispers. Draco looks at me as if to say sorry- and with that he shuts the door behind him. Just us two now, finally. My breath hitches several times as she presses herself against me, her mouth sliding against my ear, I feel like collapsing. "What's the deal with you?" I don't hear her, I can only just make out her words by the way her mouth moves. I try not to move for her dagger is still at my throat, but her other hand is in my hair, roughly running her fingers through.

"I don't understand," I reply pathetically. She steps back, releasing myself from her embrace and begins her signature prowl. Surveying me head to toe. I can't control myself- I flinch. A cruel smile darkens her face.

"Let's have some fun." The dark woman hitches up her skirt, revealing fish net stockings and a thigh holster. She puts her dagger away and lowers her skirt once more, but I've already made a noise of arousal. I whimper. Her heels make such loud, echoed clicks as she saunters over to me, taking her glorious curls out of it's bun. "What's wrong, girl? Hmmm?" I swallow.

"Nothing."

"I don't think whimpering is nothing, child" she bares her decaying teeth, and impulsively I cringe. She thinks I'm cringing out of fear.

"Your teeth," I say quietly, eyes downcast. I don't want her to win and start abusing me. Her cruel smile disappears and morphs in to a scowl.

"What about them?!" she snaps. A pink tongue running over them.

"What happened to them?"

"Nothing!" and when I blinked- she was right. The woman standing in front of me has perfect, pearly teeth and glossy curls. Her skin practically glowing.

"You- you- I- how did-" because I blinked again, and there she was. Absolutely filthy to the naked eyes.

"You're meant to be the smart one? Pfft, your 'trio' is going to be defeated if those two boys don't smarten up." I open my mouth to say something, and for once, no remark comes.

"_Crucio!"_ I'm bent in pain, my feet hanging off the ground as I spasm. I hear my own screams penetrate my head, repeating itself so many times that is blends in to a thousand tortures souls. Everything feels like it's on fire, and then next it's freezing, leaving myself paralysed but my mind still shouting, screaming. It stops.

Her face is just a centimeter away from my face, and it's the flawless her, the her with the pearly white teeth… but still the lunatic her. I look straight in to those mad eyes. "Now, you're going to tell me why you keep coming in to my dreams crying and shouting_ 'remember me'_! You tell me now, that pain just then? That was just a taster, _my love_." Spearmint, her mouth smells like spearmint.

"You keep coming in to me dreams as well." I gulp, "you really don't remember?" She shows no spark of recognition. "You don't remember this?" and I captivate her lips. Pecking softly at first. And then I can't stop. And then she has a dagger to my throat but it slips from her fingers which are now massaging my scalp, drawing my face closer to hers. I've been waiting so long for this. For her touch. For her panting breath against my neck, for this fight of dominance with our tongues. I let her win.

I let her go down on me, shoving me against the cold marble floor. I let her take off my clothes because my mind has turned to fuzz. I gasp at the cold air, I sigh as her warm hands slide down to meet my breasts leaving my hair. Her tongue is steadily working my mouth, gliding every inch as if to taste every space within. Running over my teeth, the roof of my mouth. I writhe. Her left hand momentarily leaves, and next thing I know there are ropes binding me to the floor and Madame Lestrange is nowhere to be seen. Everything turns black as material covers my eyes. Fear. I start hyperventilating. My mind starts to un-fuzz. I panic. And then her hands are on me again, running up my chest, across my cheeks, down my thighs, everywhere but 'there'. I know that I'm wet.

"You're a filthy little girl aren't you? A mudblood," I whimper at that name, and I whimper even more as I feel her breasts rubbing against my own, lightly. "You say that we've done this before? My, my- coming back for more… you must be one kinky little bitch." I wheeze as her hand travels south but before anything happens I lose all sense of contact. I bite my lip hard, and I know that I've drawn blood again.

"Bella, don't talk to me like that, please!"

"I DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I PLEASE! AND DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME 'BELLA' EVER AGAIN!"

"Take them." Silence. "Take my tears," I feel a glass veil against my cheek. And then she's touching me again.

"Don't talk, girl, in fact-" Now I truly am roped to the floor, and gagged. I feel her finger run up my vagina, "fuck, you're so wet…" Her thumb rubs against my clit, slowly. Too slowly. I almost sob, I do sob. I can feel my sensitive slit begin to throb about this teasing. I can hear her moaning, and she quickens her pace, adding a single digit in. My back arches against the floor… I'm panting… open-mouthed kisses across my stomach… my gag is gone. "I want to hear you scream," she moans. "I want to hear you scream my name." She stops, but before I can protest my clit throbs even more as it makes contact with Bella's hot tongue. Slowly she begins sliding it up and down, up and down. My whole entire body tenses at this much pleasure.

"Ah, oh… mmm…" Her nails scrape down my back, grasping my ass as I begin to reach my climax. My hips rocking to meet each flick of her tongue. She moans against my vagina- and that's the end of me. "BELLA..TRIX!" I scream out in to the large, empty room. But she doesn't stop, she keeps going. And I cum over, over and over again.

"I'm meant to despise everything about you, so why do I crave this so much?"

I don't even know how I got back home.


End file.
